The Hardest Battle
by Ramzes
Summary: AU. Fighting for the good guys is a hard job. Fighting to get into Cane Black's good books is harder, though. And if your name is Sirius Black, the former prisoner of Azkaban,'harder' equals 'almost impossible'.
1. Padfoot's Arrival

**A. N. This story had been uploaded once but it was unfinished. Well, it isn't finished now, either, but since I got hold of most of my AU stories (the reason I deleted it was that I couldn't handle all of them at once!|, I decided to start reposting it.**

_**Disclaimer: I wish I were J.K. Rowling. Well, I'm not, so I don't own her characters. I'm just borrowing them for a while.**_

**Thanks to all my old reviewers. I hope to gain some new ones, too! **

_**Thank you, sayanwizardgurl, for betaing this.**_

**Chapter 1: Padfoot's Arrival**

Through the opened window Padfoot could see Remus sitting on the sofa with a book in his lap. For a moment, the tired Animagus forgot about the horrible news he was sent to spread among their allies, forgot about the creature called Lord Voldemort that had just risen again, forgot about his exhaustion and the paws that were trembling from weakness. If dogs could smile, Padfoot would have done just that. At least, he tried. Moony losing himself in a book – it was something that used to annoy him twelve years ago. How could reading be more interesting than playing a prank along with James and Sirius? What kind of boy would prefer reading to a kitchen raid? The answer was clear: the Remus kind, of course. _The Remus kind?_ There was no one else like Moony. He was unique. _And I was a fool for ever doubting him._

Once, Sirius would have dragged him out of the room. But that time had ended twelve years ago. A whole life ago. Now he found it strangely endearing that Remus could still lose himself in a book. It was soothing to look at such a familiar scene. It reminded him that no matter how much some things changed, others did not. Sirius kept staring at his old friend for a few minutes before giving a low howl.

Remus looked at the window. Sirius had put his front paws against it and now tried to wave at him. Of course, it was a little dangerous, given the fact that he was leaning towards the glass...

_Merlin, it hurts._ Remus laughed heartily and gestured towards the broken glass that only a minute ago had been his window. Sirius gathered his last remaining strength and leapt through the hole.

"Welcome, Pads!" Remus said and smiled while Sirius was changing back. "Merlin, you look awful," he scowled. "Let me see your hand."

Sirius obediently stretched out his injured hand and Remus healed it with a single wave of his wand. However, he did not immediately release it and inspected for other wounds. "Not too bad," he concluded. "You're too thin, but that isn't something we can't deal with."

Sirius grinned. "I'm glad to hear it because I intend to eat everything you have in this house of yours."

"Maybe you should use my bathroom as well," Remus suggested.

Sirius put a pained expression on his face. "You mean I smell badly?"

Remus grinned. "You stink, Pads."

"Aww, Moony, I'm deeply hurt. You hurt my feelings."

"And you hurt my nose. Let's put it that way: no bath, no food."

Sirius' eyes widened. "But that's _too_ cruel!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"Well, I'm not," Remus admitted. "Now, let's prepare some sort of breakfast for you before you collapse."

"I don't collapse, Moony!"

"All right, call it as you wish but eat something, for Merlin's sake!"

Sirius shook his head. "I must tell you first…"

"… why you're here?" Remus suggested.

"Yes. Hasn't Dumbledore contacted you yet?"

"No. I take it he sent you here?"

Sirius nodded and bluntly said, "Moony, he's back."

Remus just looked at him with disbelief, but that did not last long. "Sirius, please tell me that 'he' isn't who I think he is. Please."

"I'm sorry."

"Voldemort's back?" Remus whispered.

"And he summoned his Death Eaters about a week ago. Harry witnessed it."

"Harry? Is he okay?" Remus asked, concerned. Surely Sirius wouldn't be so calm if Harry…?

"Yes, he's safe. He won the Tournament, you must've heard about that…"

"Actually, I heard about it, but there was a little news about the Third Task. Strangely little, I thought," Remus added.

Sirius laughed bitterly. "With good reason, I'll admit. You remember Barty Crouch Junior?"

"Of course I do. He was the boy who was sent to Azkaban by his honorable father and died there. Why mention him now?"

"Let's say he was really the Death Eater he was sentenced to be. He wasn't… exactly dead, but that's another story. You see, he was impersonating Mad-Eyed Moody during the whole school year. He changed the Cup into a Portkey that sent Harry and another boy to a graveyard where Voldemort was waiting for them."

"He was waiting… you mean he already had a body?"

"Well, not just then, but we both happen to know a little miserable rat that serves him. He took him there and they were both waiting for Harry to take his blood for the resurrection…which unfortunately turned in the right direction."

"You mean the wrong one, I suppose."

Sirius laughed mirthlessly again. "Ah, Moony, right you are. Yes, I mean the wrong direction. As wrong as it could be. Voldemort regained his body and since our dear friend Wormtail gave his hand in the process, His Merciful Lordship gave him a new one." For a moment, Sirius stayed silent. "A silver one. You'd better stay away from him, Moony."

Remus nodded. "I'll be careful. What happened next?"

"Voldemort and Harry dueled but Harry managed to escape. Voldemort summoned his Death Eaters back to service. That's why Dumbledore is summoning _us_ back to service."

"Us? You mean the Order?"

"I had to alert all our old friends. You were the last one on my list. Dumbledore told me to lie low at your place, so if you don't mind…." He felt suddenly uncertain. After all, he had not been in touch with Remus for more than fourteen years, except for the brief meeting in the Shack. Remus had helped him then but it still did not mean he would be glad to share his home with a man who had practically betrayed him in the worst way possible.

Remus smiled. "Of course I don't mind! I'd be thrilled to have you here." But he thought immediately about another inhabitant of the house who certainly would not be fascinated by the idea and who would not hesitate to say it aloud. _That'll be a strike for Sirius, and a hard one. I'll have to deal with the boy before he says or does something that hurts Padfoot. _

The werewolf looked at the clock and realized he did not have much time to prepare Sirius for the encounter. Still, he could not find the proper words.

"You mentioned another boy," he said. "What happened to him?"

Sirius' smile of relief faded.

"Cedric Diggory," he said quietly. "Peter killed him immediately. _Avada Kedavra_."

"Peter," Remus repeated the name through his teeth. "Why didn't I let you kill him when we had the chance?"

"Because Harry stopped us," Sirius reminded him. "I take it you knew the Diggory boy?"

"He was one of my brightest students. He was a loyal person and a good friend."

"That's what led him to his death." Sirius' voice was very soft. "You see, he and Harry reached the Cup at the same time and neither of them wanted to accept it as a fairly won prize so they took it together. That's how they were sent to Voldemort. He told Peter to kill the spare one. Kill the spare one!" He laughed bitterly. "And Peter obeyed him, what else is he good for…and the world lost one good person more."

Remus clenched his fists. Cedric was not only one of his favorite students; he was the same age as….

_Merlin, how do his parents feel? How would I feel if something like that happened to my son?_

"Till this moment I never knew I could hate Peter more," he whispered hoarsely. Sirius nodded darkly.

Remus turned to the broken window and repaired it with his wand while thinking of the exact words he was going to use for notifying Sirius.

"Hey, Moony?"

"What?"

"You weren't expecting me when I came, but you have three plates on the table. Are you waiting for someone?"

Remus sighed. "As a matter of fact, I am."

"You were going to throw a party!" Sirius laughed. "Ah Moony, how much you've changed! We used to drag you out of the library to meet people and look what's happening now."

"Sirius."

Remus' quiet voice made Sirius feel uncomfortable, he looked around and took a deep breath as his eyes fell on a photo of Remus with a black-haired baby. He slowly went to the table where the picture stood and took it in his hand. The picture-Remus looked at him and waved with his free hand and the baby, annoyed he was not the center of his attention anymore, clenched his tiny fists and waved them angrily. Sirius looked at the picture for a long time, and then smiled sadly.

"He adored you, Moony."

"Yes."

"I couldn't find out what exactly happened after Angela's death. I tried to find him but…."

"I know," Remus repeated. "Come here. Sit. Look at this."

They sat together and began examining the contents of the album Remus had brought. Sirius recognized Remus at twelve, then his thirteen-year-old self, Prongs as a boy, then Prongs as a deer, Remus and Padfoot, Padfoot again with pink fur – this was James and Remus' revenge for turning their beds to ice-boxes in their sixth year. It took almost two months for Padfoot's fur and Sirius' _hair_ to darken to black again.

"You know, I never forgave you two," Sirius said, smiling. "A pink Grim, for Merlin's sake! It was humiliating."

"I know, that's why we did it," Remus smiled. "Now look at this…"

Sirius was surprised by his tense voice. He looked at the picture his friend was pointing at and all the blood left his face.

"Regulus?" he whispered incredulously.

Remus shook his head and smiled. "No, it's not Regulus." He took Sirius' hand in his own. "It's Cane."

Sirius' face paled even more – Remus hadn't thought it possible.

"He's with you?" Sirius whispered. "He's been with you all this time?"

His werewolf friend simply nodded.

"But…how is that possible? The Ministry wouldn't have trusted someone like you with a child. No offence, Moony," he added quickly.

"No taken," Remus assured him. "When that Muggle car hit Angela, it turned out that she had left a will, appointing me as Cane's guardian. The Ministry didn't want to honor it, of course. They wanted to give Cane to his grandparents, but you know…" Remus hesitated.

Sirius ended for him, "They never forgave their daughter's stupid teenage mistake and our wedding didn't change it a bit. A Black couldn't possibly be worthy of their family. I doubt they relented after I went to Azkaban and Angela was left alone with the child."

"They didn't. Nevertheless, after her death they thought about taking Cane but after they saw him…."

"What?"

Remus lowered his eyes and did not answer.

"What do you mean?" Sirius insisted and suddenly it struck him. "He looked like Regulus and me, that's why they didn't want him? They didn't take him because he looked like a Black."

Remus slowly nodded.

"Bloody bigots!" Sirius exploded. "They're no better than any prejudiced pureblooded family! I'll make them sorry; I'll make them pay!"

"Sirius," Remus interrupted. "It's over. It was more than ten years ago."

Sirius made an effort to calm down. "What happened next?"

"The Ministry put him into an orphanage but Dumbledore convinced them to honor his mother's last wish. In the end, they concluded that giving him to a werewolf was better than spending money on maintaining the most notorious traitor's son. We've been living together for twelve years."

"But why couldn't I find him? I searched for him at Hogwarts but…"

"He's not there, Pads. He went to Beauxbatons seven years ago."

"For Merlin's sake, why Beauxbatons?" Sirius seemed astounded.

"We lived in France for many years. It was natural for him to go to school there. When we moved back to England, I didn't want him to change school. He comes home for the holidays here."

Sirius looked fearful. "And he's going to come home today, isn't he? You were waiting for him when I came."

Suddenly he started laughing. He laughed and laughed, almost hysterically. Remus waited for him to compose himself.

"What's so funny?"

"Just the thought that instead of searching for him in all those various places, I should have just Owled you. You would have told me if you knew how to establish contact with me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would have told you."

"You see? When is he coming?"

Remus looked at the clock again.

"In less than an hour," he answered and wondered what he could do to make Cane be polite with Sirius – he knew that _friendly_ was too much to be demanded from the boy.


	2. Meeting Cane

**Disclaimer: I own neither Sirius nor Remus or anything that you may recognize. If you can recognize EVERYTHING, that's bad for me because it means I have neither imagination nor talent, but since you know I'm not J. K. Rowling, I suppose it doesn't matter.**

**Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for betaing this chapter.**

Chapter 2: Meeting Cane

"What is he like?" Sirius asked quietly.

Remus was not sure what he should say. There was no easy way to describe Cane Black; he was a very complex person. Besides, describing him to Sirius, of all people, would be even more difficult. There was no way to avoid his friend's pain. Padfoot had spent twelve years in prison and Remus had spent those same years being Cane's father. There was no way for Sirius not to feel jealousy and hurt. Remus knew that each word spoken by him would cause Sirius pain because it was his son and he had to be told about the boy by another person. _I don't want for him to suffer but I can't pretend either. Cane used to be his son. Now he's not and it's better for all of us to make that clear right now. Cane is mine now and Sirius has to understand that._

A reasonable line of thought, really, but looking at his exhausted friend, so thin, so pale, so broken, Remus could not force himself to say the words of the clear explanation. _Merlin, I can't. I can't tell him that Cane belongs to me now. I think he already knows that, though. The boy was only four when he was sent to Azkaban. Surely Sirius can't expect that Cane remembers him. He should know that the boy has another family, but actually hearing the words will make it final. I can't tell him, not now. But Cane will be here in no time and _he'll_ make it clear. What should I do?_

Suddenly the idea struck him and he smiled. "I want to show you something. Wait here."

Sirius nodded and looked at the picture again. Regulus – Cane – beamed at him and Sirius felt a sudden sharp pain at the thought that he did not know what had made the boy smile so happily in the photograph. _I'll ask Remus._

When his friend returned, he handed Sirius a piece of red parchment. "What's that?" Sirius asked curiously.

"It came just yesterday. Read it, Padfoot."

Sirius unrolled the parchment and looked at Remus. "It's written in French."

"Yeah, I know."

"_Dear Mr. Lupin," _Siriusbegan translating in English_. "We are happy to inform you that Mr. Cane Black has just passed his exams and is now accepted for Auror's training. The lectures will begin in September and he will need the following equipment…._"

Sirius stopped reading. "Remus, this means he's been accepted to become an Auror in the French Ministry of Magic!"

"Yes, isn't that good?"

"We'll need more Aurors for the times coming," Sirius sighed. "As long as I remember, they don't just accept everyone who wants to join them. This means Cane's a really powerful wizard."

"He is. He's strong and talented with magic…and without it, too. Like you."

"Surely." Sirius' voice was subdued.

_So, I was right. He's happy because Cane is such a powerful wizard but the fact that he has to hear about him from me saddens him. Well, it's time for document number two._

"Hey, Pads? Look at these."

Sirius looked suspiciously at the pile of parchments Remus was holding now. "Which one should I read?"

"Just pick one of them up, never mind which one. They're all just variations of the same topic."

Looking definitely intrigued, Sirius unrolled one piece of parchment. It, too, was written in French and after reading it, he started laughing heartily.

"Which one did you pick up?" Remus asked amused.

"The letter that informs you he had turned the Great Hall into an iceberg. Three weeks of detention," Sirius explained.

Remus laughed, too. "Ah, that one. Merlin, I had completely forgotten about it."

"Forgotten? _Forgotten_, Remus? How many letters of this sort have you received if you can just forget about such an accident?"

Remus shrugged. "I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I stopped counting them in his second year. There must have been seventeen of them by then if I remember correctly."

Sirius' eyes were now shining, his sorrow completely forgotten. "You mean all these pieces of parchment are letters informing you about different pranks he pulled?"

Remus nodded and Sirius' smile turned into a real grin. "So, he's a bit of a troublemaker?"

"He's a lot of a troublemaker," Remus corrected him. "What else should one expect from your son?" He laughed again. "To tell you the truth, Sirius, his Head of House was a little disappointed with me, for I never did enough to handle him, in his opinion. He really thought I could have!"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "And you? What did you think?"

"I've been at school with you and James for seven years," Remus replied. "I knew better. How many times have we both seen the Potters trying to discipline James?"

Sirius thought for a second. "I can't count them," he finally admitted.

"Neither can I. I told you, I knew better than traumatizing both Cane and myself with demands I knew very well he couldn't meet. Besides, it would ruin my authority, giving him orders which he simply couldn't obey."

"How logical. It's so typical of you, Moony," Sirius commented, unfolding another letter. Then he gasped.

"What's that?" he could barely articulate among bursts of laughter. "He was caught with a girl in his bed when he was…wait, fourteen!" He was not laughing now. Instead, he looked horrified. "Moony! Fourteen! What have you taught that boy to?"

Remus remained calm. "Fleur," he said, still smiling. "If you read the letter carefully, Padfoot, you'll see they were just sleeping. Very silly of them, really, to fall asleep in the boys' dormitory like that, but they are used to sleeping in the same bad, actually sleeping. You see, they've been friends since they were both five. They're the best of friends, just like Harry, Ron and Hermione, that's all. I have no doubt they sleep together the same way they slept with their teddy bears when they were little. Oh, that was a sight," he remembered melancholically. "Cane, Fleur, and the two teddy bears, all in the same bed. When her family visited us, they didn't bother to wait for the end of the visit awake; they just crawled in his bed and fell asleep."

So, Cane had a friend. Her name was Fleur. Sirius absorbed the information with such eagerness that he himself was surprised. So, he has been with Remus all this time and I thought about all kinds of horrible things that might have happened to him.

"You met that Fleur in France, I suppose?" he asked, eager to learn more about that detail of Cane's life. He was sure he had heard Fleur's name before but he could not remember when.

"Yes, as soon as we moved there. The kids used to fight from time to time but that never lasted long. Half an hour later, never more, they would be best friends again and Cane would change faces to amuse her."

Sirius looked surprised. "Change faces? How could he change faces? He was making different grimaces, is that what you mean?"

"No, I mean he changed his face the same way Andy's Nymphadora did, and by the very same reason." Remus smiled. "He's a Metamorphmagus, Sirius."

"You're joking!" Sirius exclaimed.

"No, I'm serious."

"There hasn't been a Metamorphmagus in the Black family for five generations, and now there are two at the same time?"

Remus nodded, opening the album again and flipping through the pages. Finally he found the picture he had obviously searched for because he looked at Sirius and motioned at him to look at one page. Sirius obeyed and laughed again.

"Who are these two?"

The shot showed two children, painted in blue. They were no more than seven, with silver-blonde hair and enormous blue eyes…and entirely blue, except for those parts of them that were covered with chocolate. They were both grinning at the camera and waving madly.

"This is Cane and Fleur," Remus informed him. "You see, one of their favorite games was for Cane to make himself look exactly like her and then they could pretend they were twins."

"Okay, I got that but why are they _blue_? What kind of magic did they use on themselves to look _that way_?"

Remus sighed. "No magic, I'm afraid. They used a far more…ordinary method. A painting brush and a bucket of blue paint was all they needed to achieve this…remarkable effect. I don't want to remember what happened later when we had to have them cleaned!"

He smiled. "Thank Merlin Fleur outgrew that sort of entertainment! It's difficult to be the most beautiful girl in France if you're blue! Cane doesn't care that much about looks, but I don't think he would do it again, either."

It was then it occurred to Sirius where he had heard Fleur's name. "Fleur Delacour? Wasn't she a participant in the Tournament?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, that's her." He had been horrified when he had read that Fleur had been chosen to take part in the Tournament. With Fleur and Harry there, he had been quite disturbed and could not wait for the Tournament to end. His worry for the blonde girl had been as strong as his worry for Harry. Harry was the son of his dead friends, it was true, but Fleur was the girl who had grown up with his own son. _Take care not to call him that in front of Sirius_. He had been immensely relieved when, after Fleur had returned to Beauxbatons, Cane had appeared in the fireplace to tell him that she was okay, and Harry too.

He had not learned of Cedric's death until now. What made him even more furious at Peter was the wave of relief he had felt because it had not been Harry or Fleur who had died. He had liked Cedric, but he loved Fleur and Harry. The relief he felt was unavoidable and it made him feel disgusted with himself. _I never wished for the death of any of these kids, but if someone had to die, better Cedric than Harry or Fleur._ That selfish thought made him sick, but it was true. _I'll kill you, Wormtail._

Meanwhile Sirius had been going through the pictures and his eyes were attracted to a photo of Remus with eight-year old Cane. The dark-haired boy – _Merlin, it's no wonder I mistook him for Regulus_ – was wriggling in Remus' arms while they were struggling playfully. He looked happy. They both did.

_It had to be me. _

Sirius hurriedly went on with the pictures. He saw Raymond Lupin, Remus' older brother, with his beautiful French wife Sylvie, laughing at some private joke. Their children occupied quite a few photos, and the Animagus smiled when he saw the picture of Arion Lupin, Raymond's son: he looked just like the Remus that Sirius remembered from Hogwarts. Then, it was Cane again, Cane and Fleur, and then a young woman in a long white gown, with silver-blond hair falling down to the small of her back and a happy smile on her lips. She was so beautiful that Sirius could only stare at her with awe.

"Who is she, Remus?"

Remus looked at the picture. "Elise."

"And who is she getting married to?"

"Me."

Sirius looked at his friend with surprise. "I didn't know you were married, Moony!"

"I'm not." Remus looked aside. "She died."

"Oh."

Sirius did not know what to say so he continued looking through the album. Elise began to appear in many of the photos. Elise and Remus kissing. Elise in the garden. Elise, Remus, and Cane in something that was obviously a Muggle zoo – the boy was pointing at the elephant and was happily shouting something while Elise and Remus were looking at him with amused smiles. Elise, teaching Cane how to read. Elise with a baby in her lap.

Sirius looked at Remus again.

"My daughter," Remus explained. "Her name's Morgaine. She's just finished her first year at Beauxbatons. She and Cane will arrive together."

"I see."

In the other photos it became clear that the girl would become a great beauty one day. She possessed her mother's blue eyes, silver hair, and fair skin. Sirius thought it made her look like a real Ice Queen. He had always preferred dark women. Like Angela. He liked Morgaine best in a picture where Cane had taken her on his broomstick. They were laughing and waving at the photographer while flying around. Sirius noticed Cane's arm wrapped tightly around the girl's waist. _He's protecting her,_ Sirius realized. _They're having a fun but he doesn't forget to make sure she won't fall._

There were many pictures of the four of them together – Elise, Remus, and the two children. Smiling. Happy. _The perfect family,_ Sirius thought in a sudden burst of anger. _Merlin, why do I feel this way? I should be happy because he is happy; it's obvious that he is. But he should have been happy with me and Angela and not them!_ He looked angrily at the picture Cane who was turning his hair magenta right in front of him. _He really is a Metamorphmagus._

Cane must have been about thirteen and Morgaine about seven when Elise disappeared from all further photos. There were plenty of pictures of the two children with their friends, mostly Fleur and Raymond's children, a few of them with Remus who now looked thin and tired with pain in his eyes. The grief was visible on the children's faces, too. _They miss her._

In further pictures, the children's pain seemed to have faded, but Cane's protectiveness towards Morgaine had increased. In one of the shots he had his arm on her shoulder, in another one she seemed sad and Cane was changing his facial features in various combinations with the obvious intention to make her smile. In the next shot they were both in front of a magnificent building with a countless number of windows, among many others and Cane was holding her hand, obviously decided not to let her loose in the crowd. That picture was taken recently, judging by the age of the pair.

Remus obviously had guessed what Sirius thought because he smiled and explained: "Yes, it was taken this year on Morgaine's first day in Beauxbatons. Now, Sirius, you don't have much time. You have to eat and bathe before they arrive…which will happen in twenty minutes," he added. "Let's make it a whole hour, but even with Cane's inclination for being late, not much more."

Sirius nodded and began eating.

He did not know how long it had taken him to bathe – _Merlin, I really needed a shower, it's so nice to be clean _– but when he left the bathroom, he heard voices on the first floor. _He's here._

Feeling suddenly afraid, Sirius did not dare to enter the room where the conversation was being held. Instead, he changed almost absent-mindedly into his Animagus form and curled up next to the window listening to the voices on the first floor. He could not hear the exact phrases, but it was obvious that there was an argument. _About me? Cane doesn't want me here, he surely doesn't._

A light touch against his fur almost made him jump. Morgaine was standing next to him, her blue eyes cautious. She was even prettier than he had thought looking at the pictures of her. She still possessed the pale skin and the almost white blond hair, but she did not look like a little Ice Queen at all. Her smile was warm, though unsure. Sirius realized the girl did not know about his real identity. Surely Remus has decided to tell Cane first. She thought he was just an ordinary dog. Padfoot looked at her with big puppy dog eyes and tried to make her feel that he meant no harm. A minute later she cautiously stretched her hand to his muzzle. Sirius smelled it and Morgaine visibly relaxed and began to stroke his fur without saying a word. _ Not a word? Is she that shy? Remus didn't speak too often as a child, either, but…._

"_Merlin, how sweet it is to be petted. I haven't been petted for fourteen years._ Sirius licked her face and she giggled silently. Her fingers scratched the fur behind his ears and Sirius almost melted. _I like her already._

Morgaine suddenly left the room, leaving the startled Sirius behind. Not even a minute later the door burst open.

"What do you think you're doing?"

It was Cane. Sirius recognized him immediately. _Remus obviously had not convinced him to pretend to be at least polite with me._ But Cane seemed to be referring to something else. Sirius changed back. Cane's eyes widened, but he did not lose his direction of thinking.

"Why don't you leave her alone?"

"What? Leave who alone?"

"Morgaine! You've led her into thinking that you're a real dog and now she wants to keep you as a pet. My little sister thinks you're her birthday present! Well, of course you can't be her pet and she'll feel miserable, and she's going to cry, and all that on her birthday!"

Whatever Sirius had expected, it certainly had not been that. Before he could say something, Morgaine came back and looked at him with a curious smile, then looked at Cane and lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's him," he told her. "Sirius Black."

She pointed at Sirius again and made a strange motion, like stroking a cat. Cane smiled.

"Yes, he's a real Animagus. Change!" he ordered Sirius who obeyed immediately.

Morgaine gasped silently at the sight of the big black dog in front of her. Without losing a second, she began rubbing his fur. Sirius licked her face, nudged her playfully with his cold nose and looked at the strange signs and the mad waving she addressed to Cane. His eyes met the boy's and he suddenly knew why Morgaine was so quiet. _It's not that she's shy. It's not that she doesn't speak often. She just can't. Remus' daughter is mute!_


	3. The Birthday Party

**Disclaimer: I like my penname very much. I don't want to suffer from the mania of being great, though, so I'll stop here and won't pretend I'm J.K. Rowling. Besides, Ramzes can hardly have a claim on HP characters – he's been dead for more than three thousand years – while J.K. Rowling can because they're all hers! So, that settles it. I'm just Ramzes, I'm not J. K. Rowling, and I own Cane and Morgaine only, unless the story itself decides it needs someone else who you don't know. I swear I don't know him either!**

**As always, thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for helping me improve this story!**

Chapter 3: The Birthday Party

Two hours later, Sirius had already concluded that both Remus and Cane were mental. They had not given up the idea of throwing a birthday party for Morgaine. _They're madder than me. Voldemort has just risen again and instead of preparing for a war, they're preparing for a birthday party! _After a whole hour spent at the kitchen table discussing the Return-That-Never-Happened, according to Daily Prophet, Remus and Cane had told Sirius that Morgaine's party for her twelfth birthday still took place in their schedule for the day. Remus had insisted that they could hardly do something of great importance during that first day, so why should they change their already made plans? Cane had added that Morgaine was looking forward to her party since June. Well, nobody wanted to upset the child, Sirius least of all, but this was not the time! They should be making plans for their further actions instead of throwing a party in the middle of a war!

Sirius had been deeply impressed by Cane's intelligence. The boy had asked relevant questions and had a clear idea what they were faced with. Besides, he had given them a bit of information that was quite useful.

He had told them that after the group of Beauxbatons students had returned from Hogwarts two weeks ago, they had spread Dumbledore's announcement among their classmates. Not all of them had been willing to believe it but nevertheless, they had repeated the rumor about Voldemort's return. _He calls that nightmarish creature by its name,_ Sirius had noticed with delight. _Of course he does. A practical and logical person like Remus wouldn't let the children grow up with that incredible "You-Know-Who" stupidity._

"I can say at least fourteen names of people who I know for sure don't believe it's true, but even they will tell their parents about Dumbledore's words when they get home," Cane said. "So, the people are being informed. It's their choice whether to believe it or not but at least they are being told."

Sirius snorted at that. "Great use, no doubt, to think Harry and Dumbledore are both mental and are spreading a false rumor to frighten everybody."

"Well, we can hardly do something about those who don't want to believe, but there will be people who will find out the truth even if it's presented to them like a useless gossip, no matter how much they are scared of the thought of Voldemort's return. That's why people don't want to accept it as a certain fact, you know. Because their cozy little world will shatter to the same pieces it had fourteen years ago."

For a moment, Sirius thought it had been Remus speaking and then he realized his mistake. The calm, logical answer had just seemed so typical of good old Moony but no, it had been provided by Cane. Remus had taught him to think in a way similar to his own!

"I've met some of your classmates' parents, Cane," Remus said, "but only for a short time, at least most of them. You know their families better than I do. Could you tell us some names of people who will believe us and will be willing to help the Order?"

Cane nodded.

"Don't be in a hurry. Think well. You may give me an answer later."

"I can tell you one name right now. Fleur's parents."

"Yes, I thought they might want to struggle against him. So, they believe Dumbledore?"

"It's hard not to believe, given the fact that Isabelle was there and saw that boy's body with her own eyes."

Remus took a long sip of coffee. "I know she was there. Isabelle and Gabrielle visited me before going to Hogwarts for the Third Task. Gabrielle was so excited. She had no idea how dangerous it would be. To tell you the truth, _I _had no idea just how dangerous it would be."

Neither Sirius nor Cane missed the bitterness in his voice and they both knew what caused it.

"I didn't know Diggory," Cane had said quietly, "but I'm sorry that he's dead. I remember you talking about him. You liked him a lot."

"Yes. Yes, I did. He was smart and skillful, loyal and liked by everyone. He would have been good at whatever profession he might have chosen." Remus sighed. "That's not the point now, though. So, Jean and Isabelle are convinced we're telling the truth?"

"Yes. I spent two days at their place before the final Auror exams and I can say that for sure. They are convinced."

"Good."

And then Cane obviously decided to lighten the mood, for he grinned at Remus. "You didn't ask me about Vivienne."

Remus closed his eyes. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. She Apparated in the living room, made her face look as ugly as possible – scaring the hell out of the poor house elves that were just serving dinner – and inquired why she hadn't been informed about Voldemort's return by her daughter and granddaughter instead of hearing it from friends. Isabelle and Jean seemed to feel quite uncomfortable."

"I can imagine," Remus muttered. "One of the things I like best about England is that Vivienne lives a hundred miles away. Poor Jean and Isabelle…"

"Oh, c'mon, she's not that bad."

"You're only saying that because she always tells you how handsome you are."

"And you are jealous because she never called _you_ handsome."

"That must be it," Remus smirked.

Sirius felt anger rushing through him. They had completely forgotten about him! They were bantering and joking like Sirius had not returned after fourteen years…and neither had Voldemort. _I'm his father and for him, I'm not even here._

"She'll come here for the party, you know that, right?" Cane said, laughing.

Another heavy sigh. "Thought she might."

"What party?" Sirius interrupted.

They looked at him like they had really forgotten about his presence. Cane rolled his eyes. "Why, the birthday party for Morgaine, of course."

"You still intend to have a party?"

"Why not?"

That led to the animated discussion which was still taking place at the moment. Sirius had left the kitchen and now, in Remus' room lying on the bed, he was still wondering whether they had noticed his absence or not. _They don't need me there. They don't need me at all. _ He groaned and stretched his long limbs. _Merlin, this running has really made me feel like falling apart,_ he thought, although he knew it was much more than that.

"Are you done sulking?"

Remus' voice was calm, still quiet. Sirius had not noticed his appearance.

"I don't sulk, Moony!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Sure you don't," he answered and pointed at the bed Sirius was lying on. "Am I welcome?"

Sirius laughed at that. "Remus, it's your bedroom. I should be the one asking," he replied, making a room for Remus to sit next on the bed to him.

"I'm sorry I can't offer you a room of your own, but there are very few to spare, except for the living room and it's not a place you can get any real rest. There's always someone passing through. I think that sharing my bedroom is the best for now."

"It's okay. It's not something we haven't done before," Sirius replied and stirred his legs, wincing from the sudden sharp pain. Remus looked at him but said nothing. "When I visited you during the holidays, we always shared this bedroom."

"Yeah."

"So," Sirius asked, "how old will be Morgaine today?"

"She's turning twelve."

"She's a very pretty child."

"Yes, she is. But don't let her lead you into thinking she's the angel she looks, Sirius. Do something she doesn't approve of, and you had better begin to plan your defense, for she'll make you pay. Keep an eye on her."

"You're joking! Not with that sweet face!" Sirius exclaimed.

Remus sighed. "Just don't say I haven't warned you."

"I won't," Sirius promised.

There was a long silence in the room. "He didn't want to ignore you, Padfoot," Remus finally said. "He just doesn't know how to behave around you."

_But he has no problems with his behavior around you._ The bond between Cane and Remus was not one leaping to the eye, it was not demonstrative, but it was obvious and strong. _Remus has taken my place in his life. Having Remus, he doesn't need anybody else. Certainly not me._

"I don't know how to behave around him, either," Sirius admitted quietly. "You know what I mean. I've been gone for so many years and…." He gave up helplessly.

Remus' heart ached for him. What had happened to his joyful, mischievous friend who always wanted to have the last say in everything? _What has Azkaban done to your self-confidence, Sirius? _His Animagus friend had never admitted so openly his helplessness. _And now that this is happening, I don't know how to help him. I don't know what to do; I don't even know the right words to say._

"Hey, Moony?" Sirius spoke hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. For taking him in. For looking after him in my place. For believing me in the Shrieking Shack. For letting me stay…."

Remus laughed, although it hurt him to see his ever so confident friend struggling with words, as if he was unsure what to say.

"Okay, okay, stop there. I must confess that I acted this way because of pure selfishness. I like having you here, that's all."

"Still. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I want to ask you a question."

"Go on."

"Will you come downstairs for Morgaine's party? She'll be happy if you come. We all will be."

_Even Cane?_

Remus nodded. Had he read Sirius' thoughts?

"Cane wants you there," he said, "even if only because it will please Morgaine. As you might have noticed, he's very protective of her. If you do things that make her happy, it'll be far easier to get along with him. C'mon, Sirius, soon we won't have many more chances for such trivial things like birthday parties. Let's enjoy this day. It is my daughter's birthday, after all."

Sirius felt himself soften. Really, what could they do about Voldemort right now? Nothing, in fact, and if so, why should they not throw a birthday party for a little girl with silver hair?

"But your guests will panic once they've seen the most wanted man in the country at your dinner table," he noted.

Remus shook his head. "They all know the truth about you and Peter," he answered. "I didn't keep it to myself. Even if Fudge doesn't trust us, these people do. You really should come and have a little fun. Let yourself enjoy the day, Pads. We aren't likely to have too many days of leisure and happiness from now on."

Sirius sighed. "Well… if so…."

The first guests arrived about three hours later. From Remus' room Sirius could hear a man roaring: "Where's my little princess? Where's the birthday girl?"

He must have found her because there was a silence following. A minute later Sirius heard a knock on his door.

"Sirius? Can I come in?" a female voice asked.

Who was she? Her voice sounded strangely familiar but he really could not remember….

"Come in."

The woman who entered was tall and pretty, quite pale, with big dark eyes and brown hair. He recognized her immediately. "Andy!"

Andromeda Tonks smiled happily at him, but her lips were trembling. She took a deep breath. "Sirius!" She slowly went to him and stopped to study his features. Her eyes were slowly going wet. "Well…hello," she said at last. "You look…good."

Sirius only arched his eyebrow.

"Well, you don't," she admitted, "but I didn't want to say it."

She smiled apologetically and Sirius nodded to indicate it was all right. Andromeda looked relieved and hugged him without more hesitation.

"Oh, I missed you," she whispered. "Sirius, I'm so sorry…."

"No," he interrupted, "don't say that. I know you're sorry, Andy, no need to talk about it. Don't cry, for Merlin's sake!" he added hurriedly. Of course, it was too late for that and all he could do was pat her back rather awkwardly until her crying stopped. _It's been a while since I last held a weeping woman in my arms._

"Let me see you," he murmured after a while and held her at arm's length to have a better look of her face. "Still so beautiful," he said sincerely. "You look happy, Andy."

"I am," she answered simply.

"So, getting blown from the tapestry was worth it," Sirius concluded. "Has Nymphadora come with you? I think I already heard Ted's voice."

She laughed. "Yes, it's hard to miss, isn't it? He's very excited because of this party. I think he loves children's birthdays so much because he is like a kid himself. A rather big one, but still a kid. Nymphadora is on duty at the Ministry, so I don't expect her to come."

"So, are you often invited to Morgaine's birthday?"

She nodded, sitting next to him on the bed. "Yes, each year. When Elise was still alive, she always insisted on giving the children really nice parties. How she managed to prepare all the meals is beyond me, but I suspect she took some of her mother's house elves to help her. I don't know for sure. I never asked."

Sirius took the opportunity to make the situation with Remus and the children clearer. "So, you've remained close to Remus?"

"Not as much as I would have liked. In fact, we lost touch after…what happened. He distanced himself from everyone for a while."

_Of course he did. That's the way Moony is. Isolates himself so no one can hurt him. Unwilling to show his pain in front of another human being. It took us forever to drag him out of his shell and then I ruined everything, leaving him completely alone._

"But when he took Cane to live with him, he came to us for help. He wanted to have someone from Cane's past near him, so as not to have all ties cut off. That's when we started seeing each other again."

"It was you taking care of Cane during the full moons? I wondered what exactly…"

"Yes, sometimes, when Raymond and Sylvie were busy, and I can tell you it was quite a difficult job. Remus brought him to our place the day before the full moon and took him two days later, when he had recovered enough to pay him the attention he needed. Two days with Cane and Nymphadora, sometimes I really thought I would go mad."

She sounded quite serious. Sirius could not help but grin. "I'm sure you're overreacting. It can't have been that bad."

"No, it was worse! Have you ever tried to take two children to the park at the same time? Two children who could make themselves look like anybody around?"

"Err…no," Sirius admitted.

"I thought so."

"What happened then?"

" Remus married Elise and she began to take care of Cane during the full moons."

"She must have been good for Cane," Sirius said. "For both of them. I saw the pictures. They looked happy."

"They were," Andromeda confirmed. "They were very happy. I still remember the day Cane told me 'Aunt Andy, Elise will marry us!'"

Sirius laughed. "Them?"

"Yes, he used to see Remus and himself and… err, the two of them as a team."

"And then?"

"Then they married and Morgaine was born. We didn't meet so often anymore but Remus took care not to lose touch."

She didn't say that Remus had been trying to prevent Cane from hating his father by making him see that not everything associated with Sirius had been bad. His success had been dubious. Nonexisting, in fact.

"Including the current holiday," Sirius murmured. "Oh, I almost forgot, do you know who Vivienne is?" he asked innocently and watched with interest as his cousin's face lost all of its color.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no. She isn't coming, is she? She isn't."

"Well, in fact, she is, at least Cane says so. I can't say Moony was too pleased either. So, who is she and why are you all so scared of her?"

Andromeda took a deep breath. "She's Remus' mother-in-law and she's a real disaster! She's used to driving everyone around her mad except for her precious grandchildren, of course. Oh, we've got such luck…."

Sirius felt even more amused. It was something very unusual for Andy to look so helpless because of another person. She used to deal well with all sorts of people and had managed to avoid sharp interactions even with the members of the Black family… until the day she had been thrown out the front door.

"I don't know how her children put up with her!" Andy continued.

Sirius only looked at her.

"Okay," she corrected herself, "given the family you and I descend from, I have no right to talk. And it's really just one day."

Sirius now found it difficult to keep in his laughter looking at his cousin while she was listening fearfully to every noise coming from the first floor. At last, she sighed and rose to her feet.

"I think it's her. Come on, Sirius, let's go."

"Where?" he asked innocently. "I didn't think you had such great desire to meet the lady."

"I don't, but what kind of friends are we if we just leave Remus on his own?"

"Remus has dealt with too many people in his life; don't tell me he can't deal with his mother-in-law?"

She only glared at him and he sighed, rising on his feet as well. "Okay, let's greet the Trouble."

After Andromeda's explanations, he had prepared himself to meet a female dragon, at least. A woman who was capable of frightening his cousin so much must be horrifying. But the Vivienne Montresorre who was sitting on the sofa had nothing in common with his expectations. She was not that young, of course, having a daughter old enough to be married to Remus, but she was still pretty. No, she was _stunning_. Tall and slender in her green dress, with a few wrinkles on her face. Her eyes were the same shade of blue that Morgaine and Elise shared, her hair was more white than silver, but her delicate facial structure and pale skin were flawless.

_What a beautiful woman._ Sirius was stunned – had he just found beautiful a woman who was probably the same age as his own mother? Her voice was icy and crystal but strangely bewitching. "Hello, Andromeda."

"Vivienne," his cousin answered. "Nice to see you again. Did you come with Isabelle and Jean?"

"I'm completely capable of traveling on my own, Andromeda, thank you."

The other woman's expression had not changed a bit, but the cool arrogance in her calm voice made Sirius look at Andy with sympathy. Still, that voice fascinated him_. Or rather, it charms me. Now I see what Andy meant. Vivienne Montresorre really exercises a mesmeric influence on people._

"I think we still haven't been introduced to each uzzer," the lady continued, looking straight at Sirius.

"Let me do this now," Remus said. "Vivienne, let me introduce Sirius Black to you. Sirius – Vivienne Montresorre."

"Nice to meet you," Sirius said immediately as she stretched her hand right at him. He took it and delicately kissed the long fingers.

Remus' mother-in-law was examining Sirius without even pretending that she was not. "Too thin," she muttered. "You look awful, boy. You know, one 'as to eat from time to time."

Sirius almost gaped. Look awful? Should eat? Nobody had ever dared to give him such commands, not at a first meeting, at least. He wondered why he had not given her a proper stinging answer. It seemed like the presence of the royal lady itself was enough to make everyone around act with timidity and respect.

Vivienne stretched a hand and took his face between her palms. Sirius was so amazed that he did not even think of something to say or do. Remus, who perfectly understood his friend's condition, only grinned.

Vivienne turned Sirius' face in her hands. "Pretty eyes," she murmured.

Cane laughed. Andromeda and Remus exchanged amused glances.

Sirius actually gaped this time. "Thanks," he muttered.

Obviously he should not have said that because she glared at him instantly. "Why? It's not something you can take credit for. You were born with them. If I 'ad complemented your abilities in Charms, or your piano playing, or if you'd found a way to heal zee damages from zee Cruciatus Curse, you would 'ave something to thank me for but as eet eez now…."

"Okay, I've got the point," Sirius said, not looking at Remus and Cane. He could picture their grins quite clearly as it was, thank you very much.

"But I've 'eard you were an Animagus."

"Yes, I am."

"Zat eez quite extraordinary," she told him. "Change."

Sirius was about to fulfill her request, on all fours and so on, when it suddenly struck him. _What am I doing? She says she'd like to see me transform – no, she orders me to transform – and I immediately jump like a good puppy? _He slowly returned to his standing position and shook his head.

"You know, I don't think I really want to do it."

He heard someone gulping aside from him. Andromeda. Vivienne only looked at him with surprise. "You won't transform now?"

"No, I won't," he confirmed. _And what now? Is she going to eat me or something?_

Before Vivienne had the chance to say something, Morgaine came from the garden. Ted Tonks, Andromeda's husband, was talking animatedly to her, obviously not embarrassed at all by her lack of verbal response. She sat next to her grandmother, looking hastily at Sirius.

"Hello, Sirius!" Ted exclaimed. "Nice to see you at last. Since Remus told us you were innocent, we all wanted to see you."

"I'm glad to see you and Andy, too, Ted," Sirius answered.

Morgaine caught his glance and repeated the strange stroking motion she had made earlier that day. Sirius smiled at her. "You want me to change?"

She nodded and beamed at him.

He had not done it for Vivienne, but Morgaine's plea was an entirely different matter. "Well," Sirius said, "anything for you, Princess."

He transformed and enjoyed the surprise of the three people who had never seen such a demonstration of the Animagus' abilities, then trotted to Morgaine and curled up on the carpet in front of her.

The girl hesitated but it lasted only a few moments and then she began to stroke his fur. Sirius licked her hand happily and let her scratch behind his long black ears. _She's got fine hands._ Morgaine was obviously enjoying the contact as much as he did. Sirius found it easy to relax for a moment and forget everything about Voldemort's return, Cane's attachment to Remus, and everything else and to just lie here as a sweet big black dog with his ears scratched.

Suddenly the there was a vivid green flash in the fireplace. Other guests, Sirius concluded, and in a minute a young man stepped out of the fire. He was tall, red-haired, and had a packet in his hands, a present, obviously. _I don't know him._ Sirius continued pretending he was just an ordinary dog.

"I'm glad you came," Cane greeted the new guest. "Let me introduce you. Vivienne, this is Bill Weasley. Bill – Vivienne Montresorre."

"Ah, I suppose thees eez Fleur's red-haired obsession?"

Bill laughed. "I'm very glad to meet you, Madame," he told her.

"I think you know Andromeda and Ted Tonks," Cane continued.

"Yes, I was in Gryffindor with Tonks, so I've seen them a couple of times. My brother Charlie knows them better than me; he and Tonks were in the same class and were best friends. Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Tonks."

"Hello, Bill," Andromeda said smiling. "How is Charlie?"

"He's fine, still dealing with dragons in Romania."

"I didn't know you knew Cane and Remus!"

"I didn't," Bill answered. "I met Cane and the birthday girl here only a few days ago and I still don't know Remus."

He turned to him. "I've heard a lot about you from my brothers and sister. The best Defense teacher they've ever had." Suddenly Bill grinned and shook his hand. "And the only one who never fell for one of Fred and George's pranks. I'm deeply impressed, I must say."

"So you should be," Remus muttered. "Those brothers of yours are a walking disaster! Thank Merlin I have only one child of that kind to deal with."

Cane pretended to be deeply hurt but laughed nonetheless. Morgaine lifted her hand from Padfoot's fur, made an angry gesture and pointed at herself first and then at Cane.

"I'm sorry, Morgaine," her father apologized. "Don't think I've forgotten you. It's not that you're not as…industrious as Cane; I just meant that I had only one child to deal with at a time. I'm not sure whether I would have survived if you two were twins!"

She seemed contented and resumed stroking the dog's head. Bill went to her and gave her the present. "This is for you, Birthday Girl," he said, smiling, and she nodded her head thanks.

While Morgaine was unwrapping her new present, Bill was examining Padfoot with an amused look, as if he knew….

"I suppose I should say I'm glad to meet you, Sirius Black?" he asked at last.

Sirius changed back. "Better not," he answered. "Don't if you don't mean it. I take it that Ron was the one who told you?"

"Right," Bill confirmed. "He told the whole family your story and what happened during his third year." He grinned again. "I'm glad I wasn't in his shoes when Mum asked him how he could have kept it all a secret."

"And what about your father?" Sirius asked. "Did he agree to join the Order of the Phoenix?"

"He did."

"Good."

"Tell us how you got to know Cane and Morgaine," Remus asked.

"They came to visit me a couple of days ago and we…fit, in a way."

"I'm due to know who Fleur is going to mess up with, you know," Cane explained.

Remus only shook his head. "Ah, how could I forget, you're her self-appointed guardian, yes."

Cane grinned. "So glad you understand."

_The girl certainly needs a guardian,_ Sirius decided, when she and her family arrived some minutes later. Fleur was a stunning beauty with silver-white hair and pale eyes who looked a lot like Remus' wife and Vivienne. _She's her granddaughter,_ Sirius realized, _and Morgaine's cousin. That's why she and Cane grew up together. Remus married a relative of hers._ Fleur's little sister had the same colors. _When she and Morgaine grow up, many boys will lose their hearts to them. And not only when they're young._ After all, Vivienne was still an amazing woman and her daughter, Isabelle, was a dazzling beauty, with the same hair and eyes. She smiled at him and said she was happy to meet him and then dedicated all her attention to her niece. Her husband took the first opportunity to take Sirius aside from the others.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Did You-Know-Who return?"

Sirius nodded.

"I have no doubts. He regained his body and summoned his Death Eaters."

Jean Delacour only sighed. "I hoped Fleur 'ad made a mistake…or your Headmaster 'ad made one."

Vivienne interrupted them. "Jean, do you really think that zee Headmaster of the English school for magic 'as nothing else to do but frighten 'is students with false rumors? He wouldn't 'ave said such a thing without being convinced in its reliability."

_Does she have ears on her back?_ Sirius wondered. _I could've sworn she was talking to Cane just a moment ago._ He looked at the dark-haired Frenchman with sympathy. _A beauty she may be, but I wouldn't have lived through it having her as my mother-in-law. No wonder Remus left France._

Now they had everyone's attention. "So, it's true?" Andromeda whispered. "My neighbors' son has just returned from Hogwarts and he keeps saying that You-Know-Who is back."

"Yes, Andy, it's true," Sirius said calmly. "Dumbledore sent me to alert the members of the Order of the Phoenix about what's going on."

Ted Tonks squeezed his wife's hand and Isabelle Delacour ran a finger through her long blond hair. "We 'ave heard about zee Order," she said in a slightly trembling voice. "Do you accept new members?"

"Of course we do!" Sirius exclaimed enthusiastically.

Isabelle took a deep breath and her husband said, "Well, you 'ave just found two more."

"Three," Fleur corrected him.

"No, two," Remus said and gave her and Cane a very firm glance. "Only full-grown and fully-trained wizards can be accepted into the Order and you two are neither."

Sirius thought he had heard a quiet "We'll see" from Cane's direction, but when Remus looked at him, the boy smiled an almost angelic smile and shook his head.

"All right, we'll have more than enough time to discuss this," Remus announced, "and now I suggest celebrating Morgaine's birthday."

Isabelle nodded and turned to Andromeda. They seem to like each other a lot. Ted and Jean Delacour were having a conversation in French – Ted's accent had not improved much during the years of Sirius' absence, he noticed – and Fleur and Bill went to the garden soon after dinner was served. They seemed really interested in each other. Sirius smiled. _It's fine to be twenty,_ he thought. Cane sat next to Vivienne. _A brave boy._

Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, and two other blond kids, a boy and a girl, both Morgaine's age, were talking animatedly to Morgaine and seemed to understand her nonverbal responses. _Of course, they all have had more than enough time to get used to her language of gestures. I have a lot to learn if I want to get along with that sweet child…or maybe not so sweet, judging by her reaction to Remus' words about dealing with pranksters. Never mind, she's the cutest little thing ever…_

Looking at Morgaine, Sirius missed the arrival of some new guests, so when he finally looked at the others, he felt suddenly shaken. For what he witnessed was a scene of the past, of all the hours that he had spent here with the Lupin family. In front of him, smiling slightly and as if taken out of a Pensieve, was Remus – the Remus that he remembered from Hogwarts – young, amber-eyed, with a slight worry in his expression. And next to him was Sirius himself! He almost looked around, expecting to see James popping out of nowhere.

But what he was seeing now was not his old friend from school. And the guy standing next to him was not Sirius, of course. Near the window stood Cane and Arion Lupin – a living copy of his uncle. He stared at them, at their obviously serious conversation, noticing the small nods and gestures that told him more than any words could. In less than a minute, he knew that Cane and Arion were just as good friends as he and Remus had been once. They seemed to feel comfortable around each other, just like he and Remus had felt before the whole traitor business.

"They've been at it ever since Fleur returned," a female voice said next to him. He looked away from them and saw a girl Cane's age.

"Arielle Lupin," she said and held her hand out. He shook it, as if he had long ago forgotten how to meet new people. He would recognize her even without her words: her red hair and dark eyes were exactly like her mother's. The only difference was that she was less beautiful than Sylvie – her face lacked the perfect lines of her mother's. No doubt, she was a pretty girl and she looked intelligent.

"Nice to meet you," he said and she smiled.

"Same to you."

Sirius decided that she was quite nice. Unfortunately, her presence meant that he probably would have to meet….

"Black."

_Quick thinking, Sirius,_ he thought sullenly. _Only a little late._ He looked at the man who was standing in front of him, his hand on Arielle's shoulder. "Raymond."

_He could have at least changed,_ he told himself disappointedly. He had hoped to see Remus' brother fat and maybe gouty, with a bald spot on his head. He had been wrong. Raymond Lupin was as tall and slim as ever, muscular and attractive. His black hair was shining, and his blue eyes were as translucent as ever. They regarded Sirius with the same thin-covered hostility that Sirius himself felt towards him. Suddenly, Sirius felt like the weaker side in their everlasting conflict, in which they had always been equal. It had nothing to do with the real situation, it was just that Sirius – thin, gaunt, still with the wild look that Azkaban had left him – felt as if Raymond's looks and obvious good health gave the other man the upper hand. And Raymond Lupin was not a man who would let his hatred be weakened by the fact that Sirius had spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime that he had not committed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Raymond raised an eyebrow. "_Excuse me?_ This house used to belong to my parents, remember? My niece has a birthday today. Tell me, what are _you_ doing here? I doubt that Remus and the children invited you to the party."

"Dumbledore's orders," Sirius answered curtly. Arielle, who felt the tension, muttered an excuse and walked away. "He told me to lie low here for a while."

"Dumbledore…I understand. It sounds like God has just issued his Eleventh Commandment," Raymond commented.

Sirius almost gaped at him. He has never seen someone mock Dumbledore in such a way. Raymond smiled with irony. "That's what Cane says about Dumbledore and his orders," he explained. "I don't think he shares our full trust in Dumbledore's assessments."

"He doesn't?"

Raymond shrugged. "Unlike us, Cane didn't go to Hogwarts. He's seen Dumbledore only once and he didn't especially like him then. Cane is a boy of strong feelings."

Maybe it was true. Or maybe not. Sirius knew nothing about his son, nothing at all.

"What do you mean?"

"When he makes mistakes, he faces the consequences. He does not seek condescendence, _but he does not forgive other people either_."

Sirius felt a chill running down his back. "What do you mean?" he asked sharply.

"I'm warning you!" Raymond had lowered his voice, but it was full of insistence, very hard. "No one else will dare to tell you that. Don't fail him again. He managed to escape once, but next time, he may not be this lucky. Keep that in mind next time you decide to play the hero for the little Potter."

Sirius' hands clenched in fists. "Explain! What do you mean, he managed to escape? What happened?"

Raymond shook his head. "It is up to Cane to tell you. Just remember that I've warned you."

Before Sirius could answer, Cane interrupted them. "We have a problem," he said hurriedly. "Someone is coming through the garden door."

Remus crossed the room and stood next to them. "We don't have a problem. We are just celebrating with our...dog. Ah, you've already transformed, Padfoot, that's good. Who has decided to visit us all of a sudden, Cane?"

"I don't know him," the boy muttered, "but he looks positively angry."

The man who entered the room was obviously a wizard, with fine robes of red velvet and an angry expression on his face. _That smells like trouble,_ Sirius decided and hardly kept himself from growling at him. Remus gave him a hard look.

"Padfoot, be nice!" he ordered.

_Great, just great. Does he think that I'm really his dog?_

"Hello, what can I do for you?" Remus asked pleasantly.

"I'm searching for Remus Lupin," the newcomer answered.

"That would be me."

"I 'ave come to talk to you about Cane Black's behavior."

"What did he do this time?" Remus sighed. "Be more concrete, please."

"My name eez Etienne Vallais and my son eez a classmate of 'is."

Sirius looked at Cane and did not miss the moment when the boy understood what the problem was. _At least one of us does, because Remus seems to know as much as I do – nothing._

"What's the problem?" Remus still kept his tone polite.

"He smashed my son's teeth, zat eez the problem. What kind of behavior is zat?"

"I won't know until I ask Cane himself," Remus answered calmly. "Cane? Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," the boy answered defiantly. "It served him right! I was going to do something more, but Fleur stopped me."

"Would you mind telling us why?"

"As a matter of a fact, I would. It's none of your business. My dear classmate was acting like a real prat and I gave him exactly what he deserved."

"You see? Did you 'ear zat? Zee boy eez completely out of order. He needs a hard hand to show him..."

"That is a matter entirely out of your concern," Remus said, still politely but firmly. "Tell us why you're here."

"I want you to pay zee bill at St. Lazarre's," said Mr. Vallais, "and make zee boy apologize." He glanced at Cane spitefully.

_That's going to be quite an interesting situation. Let's see what my son will do. If he's anything like me…._

"It won't happen," Cane said sternly. "We aren't going to pay that hospital bill of yours just because your son happened to be a moron, and I'm certainly not going to apologize for something that he thoroughly deserved."

_I thought so._

"'Oo exactly do you think you are?" the intruder wanted to know. "A royal person?"

"And who do you think _you_ are, coming 'ere and spoiling our party after what your son 'as done?"

The voices had obviously been loud enough to attract Fleur's attention from the garden. Sirius had not noticed her coming.

"I don't know 'oo you are, young lady, but what do you 'ave to do with zee problem?"

"I am zee problem," Fleur replied coldly. "What Cane does not want to say is zat your son cornered me and tried to kiss me against my will. Cane just protected me. Your precious son was not willing to let me go and Cane interfered when he saw us. Zat is what happened."

Remus paid no attention to Vallais' enraged face. Instead, he looked at Cane with a slight smile. "So, that's what happened," he said softly.

"Nobody bothers Fleur and gets away with it," Cane told him instead of answering directly.

Remus smiled again. "I see. Well, Mr. Vallais, I think we all have a better idea about what happened at Beauxbatons. I'll pay the bill, of course."

"Good."

"Remus!" Cane exclaimed indignantly. "Since when do we dig morons out of the holes they dig for themselves? This is their problem, not mine, and certainly not yours. If our visitor wants his son to have teeth, it's he who's going to pay the bill."

With a hard glance Remus silenced him. "I will pay the bill," he repeated, turning to the visitor again. "But I'm not going to make Cane apologize."

"What?"

Sirius laughed inside. _That's my Moony._

"Cane, you're eighteen years old, almost nineteen," Remus continued. "It's time for you to learn that life is not always fair. It's too much to smash your rivals' teeth, no matter how much they deserve it."

Sirius barked his approval of Remus' little lesson. _You're amazing, Moony._ In his kind and polite way, Remus has just been more rude and offending toward the man – without a single harsh word, indeed. Cane's satisfied smile indicated that he, too, had noticed.

Unfortunately, Vallais hadn't missed the hint, either. "I see where zat boy 'as gotten his manners," he said. "You're all mad," he added disdainfully. "First, 'is last name suspiciously matches zat of a famous murderer, then your permanent change of jobs. We all know about your daughter, zee mute, and your son, 'oo…."

He looked at Morgaine with disgust and that made it for Sirius. The man had raised a son who attacked women, yet he had the impudence to come here, interrupt the birthday party, insult Remus and Cane and then looked naughty at the cutest girl ever born. It was not Morgaine's fault that she was unable to speak! Sirius bounced on the man and started growling threateningly.

"Oh, Padfoot," Remus sighed before a sudden yell interrupted them. "Great, now I have two angry creatures to deal with."

Padfoot looked at the source of the yell and produced a sound that would have been a gasp if only he was Sirius at that moment. A horrifying creature was slowly advancing towards the silly man. Its face was that of a bird, with a long beak and bristled plumage which was producing the bone-penetrating sound. Two large wings were growing from its shoulders. It had human hands but the nails were sharp and very, very long. The nightmarish creature stood on its front legs – why legs and not paws, Sirius wondered for a brief moment – and suddenly it bounced towards the Frenchman with a new yell. Padfoot did the same, still growling threateningly.

"Stop it!" Remus told them sharply and Sirius was amazed when the Creature not only understood Remus' command, but actually obeyed it. He sullenly did the same.

"Now, get out," Remus told his unwanted visitor, "and do it quickly. If you're still here in two minutes, I won't bother to keep the dog and the Veela at bay anymore, do you understand me? And if you want your son to not come crying to you with smashed teeth, teach him how to behave with ladies. Don't forget that!"

"You're all mad!" the man shouted as he was leaving the room, his eyes still on Padfoot and whatever the Creature was.

"'E left zee garden," Fleur announced from next to the window.

"Good...now you can transform, Pads."

But Sirius was not in a hurry to become human again. Morgaine had come next to him and he was now enjoying the motions of her hands on his fur. _Go on, go on, precious one. I like you and your hands, go on!_

Cane had joined Fleur next to the window to make sure that the visitor had really left. "He'll never come back!" he exclaimed and laughed. "You two scared him to death!"

"Well, 'e deserved eet." Vivienne was now standing where the Creature had been just a moment ago. Had Remus not mentioned something about a Veela? _Ahhh, but of course, that explained her mesmeric charm. No wonder her daughters and granddaughters are so beautiful._ He gave the doggish equivalent of laughter. _A werewolf married to a half-Veela, and they are raising a Metamorphmagus. An interesting household you have got, Remus._

Vivienne patted his head. "Now, zat's a good boy," she said mildly, and Padfoot choked. "What? You are a good boy...Pads, I believe?"

"Padfoot," Remus corrected her.

"Mother, don't you think eet was unnecessary for you to change?" Isabelle asked.

"When I need your opinion, Isabelle, I will take care to inform you," Vivienne cut her off.

Sirius changed back. "So, you're a Veela," he said aloud and Vivienne smiled at him.

"Did you like eet?"

"It was quite...impressive, I'll admit."

"I think it was amazing." Cane was still laughing.

Fleur agreed.

"I wish I could change zat way."

"To scare your admirers to death?" Her friend laughed again. "I'll admit it'll make my life easier. I mean, taking care of you is a full-time job. And, Bill, don't forget that I take my duties seriously."

"I won't," Bill grinned. "I like my teeth just the way they are."

"Ouch! What was that for?"

Fleur smacked Cane lightly on the head again. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Anything you say."

"I used to scare my admirers when I got tired of zem," Vivienne announced.

Isabelle looked embarrassed. "Please, Mother..."

"Really?" Sirius was quite interested. Remus looked as if he could hardly keep in his laughter.

"Yes, I did. Most of them never came back and zat worked perfectly for me."

"I can imagine. But you got married, in the end. Was your husband pleased when you decided to punish him by changing?"

She looked at him in a manner that almost made him expect her to tell him again that he was a good boy. "Why do you think I punished him in zat way?"

"Oh, I just supposed."

She sighed with a fake regret. "Oh where were you when I was looking for a husband?"

"In my crib, probably," Sirius shrugged and she laughed.

"Probably. Oh, I wish I were only ten years younger, zen I could flirt with you."

"Never mind, I'm ready to go out with you right now," Sirius answered immediately. Andromeda gasped.

Vivienne shook her head. "No, I'm too old. No man can seduce me, not even you. You should 'ave appeared ten years ago."

Sirius sighed, pretending to be heartbroken. Everybody laughed and a few minutes later, the room was filled with laughter and chatter, as if everybody had decided to forget about Voldemort and draw as much pleasure from the party as possible.

Sirius decided to look for Raymond Lupin. He wanted to know what Remus' brother meant by saying that Cane 'escaped.' Escaped from what? What had happened?

But Raymond was nowhere to be seen.

Sirius would never know what made him just in that moment put his glass on the table, stand up, and turn around. When he thought about it later that night, he wished that he had not done it.

But he did and his eyes fell right on his son, who was standing next to the staircase, leaning against the wall. His dark, handsome face wore the expression of such genuine love and such painful longing that Sirius almost gasped in surprise. He had seen this look before, each time when James had looked at Lily at Hogwarts, when she would not even give him a second glance, each time when Fabian Prewett had looked at Dorcas Meadows. Sirius himself had probably looked in the same way at Cane's mother. It was not a look of a boy at his crush, it revealed the strongest feeling that one human being could feel for another.

Cane was looking so intently and with such longing at Arielle.

But she wasn't looking at him. She paid him no attention.

For the rest of the day, Sirius kept trying to understand what was going on between those two. The answer was…nothing. At least not on her part. On his, there was much to talk about.

_Earlier, I wished I knew him better,_ Sirius thought. _Now, I know something about him and I wish I had stayed happily ignorant._

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	4. Home, Sweet Home

**Disclaimer: You know who I am, don't you? Ramzes, not J. K. Rowling, so I own nothing. Now that this has been clarified, let's go on with the story!**

**Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for editing this.**

The underlined words are Morgaine's. She writes on a charmed parchment (it's called the Parchment) with her wand.

Chapter 4: Home, Sweet Home

_A few days later…_

Padfoot raised his head and with a sigh changed back into Sirius. Since he had not been on his feet as a dog, he simply continued lying on the carpet and looking at Morgaine. She smiled at him absentmindedly, engrossed in her book.

"It's not healthy, you know," he said. "Reading so much, I mean. It may give you serious brain damage."

She smiled at him and he recognized the smile that told him, "Oh, Sirius, be good." Over the last four days he had become really good at reading her expressions and gestures.

"But I'm lonely, Princess," he complained. "Your dad and Cane are on their own business almost all the time and all I can do is to sit here and look at my Princess ruining her health with all these books."

She gave him a reproachful look, and, obviously deciding that just a look was not enough, took the Parchment and tapped it with her wand. The words appeared in no longer than a moment, written in green ink. "Oh, Sirius, do stop nagging."

"Okay, I will," he agreed, "but only under one condition. Give the book up and pay attention to your poor forlorn dog."

Morgaine smiled and nodded. The words "Just a minute" appeared on the Parchment, replacing the former phrase. The girl started reading again but raised her head just in time to catch Sirius stretching hand to take her wand. She shook her hand and gave him a harsh glare. Sirius sighed. He did not need the Parchment to know what she had meant. "Don't touch my wand!"

"I only want to examine it closely," he explained, but Morgaine was not impressed; she grabbed her wand to prevent Sirius from inspecting it. His eyes stayed on the willowy stick that channeled Morgaine's magic, non-verbal magic. He wanted to have a close look at it and examine how it was able to react to Morgaine's thoughts. Non-verbal magic was something only very talented older wizards and witches could do. A girl at the tender age of twelve who was able to perform such complicated magic was something very unusual, and yet, Remus had told him that Morgaine was as advanced in her school subjects as any of her classmates. _That means that she is an exceptionally gifted witch, and it also means that her wand is something extraordinary,_ Sirius had concluded. His hands were itching to touch it, but Morgaine would never allow that. _Can't blame her. Without that wand, she won't be able to write on the Parchment and won't be able to communicate with people other than the members of her family. No wonder she's so careful with it._

"You know, you have inherited your dad's strange infatuation with books," he told her. "He used to live in the library, literally, unless we found him and dragged him out of there."

She smiled and left the book on the sofa. Sirius changed and she scratched behind his silky ears. He trotted to the room that he and Remus were currently sharing and came back with a leash in his mouth. He sat on his haunches and looked at her with the dog equivalent of a smile.

Morgaine shook her head. Padfoot whined pitifully and she sighed. New words appeared on the Parchment, but knowing what they were, Padfoot refused to even look at them. He continued whining until she grabbed his muzzle and turned it aside, so it became impossible for him not to read what she had written: "No, Sirius, Dad says it's too dangerous for you to go outside."

Sirius changed back. "But it's only a short walk in the park; he won't even know!"

Morgaine shook her head again. Sirius transformed and resumed his whining. "Stop it!" The words were not green this time, but orange.

_Oh, my Princess is getting angry, that's good. My plan is working!_ He continued whining and whimpering in a burst of fresh energy.

The girl left the living room to distance herself from the piercing sound, but Sirius simply followed her. _It will work,_ he smiled inwardly. _It always used to work on Remus, after all._

He was proven right, when Morgaine shot him a reproachful look and the Parchment informed him, in light blue-colored words, that he had just won. "We are going to the park, but for no longer than half an hour. And if Dad catches us, I'm going to tell him that you forced me!"

Padfoot barked happily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, and then in a flash Sirius stood there, smiling at her. "You are the best, Princess!" he exclaimed. "I knew I could count on you."

Morgaine smiled reluctantly. "Why do you always call me that? 'Princess'?"

_Because you're the most pure, most beautiful thing I have in my life right now._ Sirius himself was surprised by the ridiculous happiness he felt each time he was lying next to her as Padfoot. She had the same calming effect on him as her father did. But while Remus was his friend, a bond to his past happiness, Morgaine was a sweet, beautiful and shy girl with silver hair that made her look like an angel. She represented something that Sirius had forgotten long ago: something innocent, something serene and cheerful. Sirius needed something pure and serene in his life. Merlin, how he needed that.

"Because you are. Now, let's go before your dad and Cane return."

She nodded in agreement and two minutes later, they were already on their way to the nearest park, which happened to be really close. When they reached it, Morgaine sat down on the grass and Padfoot looked concerned, while she was turning over the pages of her book. _She is a greater bookworm than Moony or even Hermione. _It did not take a long time, though, before they started playing with the ball Morgaine had brought with them. Padfoot was ecstatic, throwing the ball back at the girl or simply running after it. Morgaine's eyes were shining with excitement, her hair was flying around her face and his cheeks soon flushed. _She's even cuter when she's like that._

Unfortunately, not everyone thought that way. Padfoot was just coming back from a long ball-chasing when he saw Morgaine had gone pale and her frame was very stiff. Padding softly, he hurried up to see what the problem was.

_Oh, just as I thought._ There were two boys standing next to Morgaine. They seemed to be about her age, quite tall, and, in that moment, too busy insulting her. Padfoot heard only a few phrases, but it turned out to be more than enough.

"Pretty face, angelic hair...still no voice, huh? Aren't there some special places where they treat freaks like you?"

Morgaine waved her hand angrily to make them go away. Unfortunately, it did not work.

"You're not satisfied with our company? Make us leave, freak. Or make your dad or your very big and strong brother to move us away. Oh wait, you can't tell them what happened, can you?"

That was too much. Padfoot felt a strange pain in his chest while he was looking at Morgaine's pale face and watery eyes. She was wearing Muggle jeans and a slightly-faded yellow T-shirt. The slight neglect in her clothing was making her even more vulnerable.

_If she were at Beauxbatons, she would have hexed them, but she isn't allowed to perform any magic here, except for the Permanent Writing Charm that is put on the Parchment. She's completely defenseless against the local bullies._ Padfoot did not realize that he was running towards them until he stopped only a foot aside and started growling at the two boys. Yes, judging by their horrified expressions, he was definitely sounding threatening. He approached one of them very closely and bared his teeth with a loud, angry bark. They stepped aside quickly. Padfoot began rubbing himself against Morgaine's feet, making it perfectly clear that he was protecting the girl next to him, then started growling at the bullies and faked an intention to bite them. Canine instincts ran deep, and Sirius inside of Padfoot truly approved of his desire to attack the intruders.

After a last, cautious look at the large black dog, the boys obviously decided that it was wise to put as great a distance between Padfoot and themselves as possible, so they just ran. Morgaine patted Padfoot's head and he did not need the Parchment to read her thoughts: _Thanks for protecting me. It's so sweet to feel safe. You know, you're an amazing dog._

He nudged her and they both sat down on the grass. Padfoot placed his head in her lap and enjoyed the scratching behind his ears. In response, he raised his head and nuzzled her neck with a cold nose, feeling the sensation in her throat. She would have laughed, given a voice. _Right, Princess. They are just a pair of idiots. If they were wizards, I'm sure they would have been put in Slytherin. Don't torment yourself over them. They are not worth it._ He looked at her with big puppy dog eyes, trying to tell her: _If they come around again, I will bite them, this time for real._

Morgaine seemed to understand, because she hugged him and he felt her smile against his fur. He licked her neck and nudged her with the ball. She ran a hand through his fur and started to stand up but before the movement was finished, Padfoot smelled a vaguely familiar scent. Just when he was on his way to realizing who its owner was, the person voiced her presence.

"Morgaine, are you okay? I saw what happened but I was too far to interrupt. Did they do something to you?"

_McGonagall._ Padfoot resisted the urge to hide behind Morgaine. _I'm a grown up who has just defended an innocent girl. She can't give me detentions anymore. Can she?_

Morgaine must have made a gesture that she was okay because McGonagall continued, "It's good you had someone to defend you. I'm glad you've finally got a pet, though I don't like dogs that much, being a cat-person myself. But I have to admit that it's useful sometimes to have a big black dog on your side." She stopped speaking and looked at the aforementioned dog with widening eyes. "Big...black...dog," she repeated slowly. "Morgaine, is that...is that _Sirius_?"

He barked in confirmation. McGonagall shook her head in disbelief, looking straight at him. Sirius had the feeling that she was trying to find some defect in his dog shape, maybe human ears on his head, or fingers instead of padded paws. _It felt the same way at school when she was examining my Transfiguration project. Sorry, Professor, I've done my homework excellently. It took me three years..._

McGonagall looked at him suspiciously and he tried to stifle his laughter._ She knows I'm laughing, and that I'm laughing at her._

"Very well, Morgaine," she said. "I was on my way to see your father. May I join you?"

Morgaine nodded and smiled. Padfoot barked and the trio started their journey to the house. Once they had entered, the Deputy Headmistress sent Morgaine to change in a voice that allowed for no objections. _I know that voice. That's never good. Now she's going to yell at me for going out or for becoming an illegal Animagus right under her nose..._

He changed back and McGonagall muttered: "Very impressive. Good job, Mr. Black."

He grinned. "Thank you, Professor."

She was looking at his hollow cheeks and hardened facial features and was trying to blink away her tears. Tired and tense, he resembled a sad shadow of his old self. She could barely recognize the boy she had taught so many years ago, charming and daring, always smiling, and sometimes unusually stupid. The last, at least, had not changed a bit.

"I was sent here by Albus to contact you and Remus," she said, "and the first thing I see is you and Morgaine in the park, under the bright sunshine. Does Remus know about this?"

Sirius shook his head.

"I thought so. Why would you do something so stupid, Sirius? You know how dangerous it is!"

"I know the Death Eaters must be searching for a big black dog already, but I couldn't stay in this house any longer. I don't think it was as dangerous as you seem to think it was."

"Oh, really?" Her voice was cold. "Did you stop for a moment to think what might have happened if Morgaine had been seen with you?"

Sirius felt his face paling. He could vividly imagine Lucius Malfoy or any other Death Eater trying to take a hold of Padfoot and Morgaine being involved in the process. A child's life meant nothing to those people, and a child of Morgaine's heritage – both Veela and werewolf – meant even less. They would have killed her without the slightest hesitation if they could save themselves an unnecessary step aside on their way to him. They would have one reason more to aim at Remus and Cane. They could have tortured her just for the pleasure. _They could have..._

"I see that you understand," his former teacher said softly. "Think more about the results of your actions, Sirius, especially when there are children involved."

_Especially when there is Remus' daughter involved._ Sirius looked at McGonagall. "Are you going to tell Remus?" he asked fearfully. Remus had accepted him, trusted him. If he knew that Sirius had put Morgaine's life in danger, Sirius would have to leave and be alone again. _Without Cane. Without Remus. Without Morgaine._

"If Remus hears about your little walk, it won't be from me."

He smiled with relief and went to the kitchen to prepare their tea in the Muggle way because he still did not have a wand.

"Good," McGonagall said, drinking delicately. She was looking at the Parchment, where the last words Morgaine had written were still shining in light green. "Oh Merlin she's done it alone, hasn't she?"

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"It's Minerva, Sirius. I mean that she has modified the charm Remus put on the parchment last year when she left for Beauxbatons. It used to only to reflect her mental commands and write what she wanted to say. Now it writes in different colors, doesn't it?"

"The color reflects her mood, Prof... Minerva," Sirius confirmed. "When she is angry, the words are written in red, when she's delighted, they're green like that, when she wants to show we're trying her patience – "

"That's enough," she interrupted him. "It's her doing, am I right?"

"Yes, I heard she changed the charm two months ago."

McGonagall smiled. "I can hardly wait to tell Filius about that. He'll be deeply impressed and then he will be sad because he has lost the potential queen of his Charms class. He always says that one day she will be remarkable in Charms."

"Does Flitwick know her?" Sirius was surprised.

"Yes, he does. We, I mean Filius and I, taught her the main principles of non-verbal magic. He has been fascinated by her since the very beginning, and with good reason, I'll admit. She's a very talented witch and a clever girl. We wanted her to come to Hogwarts, but after Severus revealed Remus' secret, she was... safer at Beauxbatons."

Sirius nodded. Yes, being the child of a known werewolf would not be much easier than being a werewolf. Remus had been right to send her to Beauxbatons where his secret was still unknown. _Damn you, Snivellus._

So, that was how Morgaine had been able to deal well with her schoolwork. McGonagall and Flitwick had taught her non-verbal magic. Remus had taught his daughter too, for sure. Still, there was something Sirius still failed to understand. "But how could she perform such complicated magic? It's hard even for wizards who are much older than her and are clever, too."

"Well, we were facilitated by the fact that she wasn't naturally mute. Her throat and vocal cords are capable of reflecting her brain commands. We just had to teach her how to direct the pressure in her throat in the right direction, so thus she could be able to actually perform the spell."

A new surprise. _I thought she had been born like that._

"So, she isn't really mute?"

"No, she isn't. She just stopped talking a couple of years ago, after her mother died."

_Well, I can see she loved her mother, but that's too much. And how did Elise die, anyway? Remus doesn't want to talk about it. _"Did you know Elise?"

"Not very well," McGonagall answered, "but yes, I knew her." A sudden smile made her look much younger and carefree. "In fact, I met her during my visit in Beauxbatons a few years ago."

"What was she doing there?" Sirius was curious. "Don't tell me that she was still a student."

"No, she wasn't. You see, after I had finished the business I had come to attend to, I was invited to visit a first-year Transfiguration class. There, a little Metamorphmagus decided that it was his duty to lighten the mood by turning the chair of the guest-professor, I mean, my chair, into a pig."

Sirius tried to suppress his laughter. Strange enough, McGonagall did not look as indignant as she should have. Was that a smile he was seeing on her thin lips? _Stop imagining things, Black._

"Well, he couldn't possibly have succeeded, so what's the matter?"

Yes, it _had_ been a smile. The laughter was evident in her voice when she informed him: "The matter was that the chair was given a pig snout that shrieked right under me!"

He shook his head. "It's not possible. Not in his first year."

"Yes, it was possible because he did it. I was astounded. Normally, it's a third-year task. However, Cane gave me the fright of my life right then and his teacher wasn't pleased at all. He was punished and Elise was summoned to be notified in person about the accident. She gave me her personal excuses. I have to admit I had lost touch with Remus but everything went fine when Elise told me her surname. I visited them, saw Remus again and met Morgaine."

"She's an amazing kid."

"Yes."

Sirius laughed aloud. "So, it was a pig snout," he said.

"Yes, Cane has always been natural in Transfiguration. Sometimes I'm almost sorry he didn't come to Hogwarts."

"Really?" Sirius' grin widened.

She actually laughed this time. "He would have been the king of my Transfiguration classes, but he's inclined to mischief-making more than you and James combined and as I said, he is really talented. No, I'm glad I can simply enjoy his industry in mischief-making, knowing that it will never happen in my classes. His education and punishment were never my duty. Sometimes I look at him and tell myself. 'He's not at Hogwarts. He's not at Hogwarts.' You can't imagine how good it feels."

He could. He had always had the impression that his Head of House had found them quite amusing, but she had been responsible for them, so she had not had the opportunity to show that she had liked them. Obviously, Cane received a completely different altitude. _Lucky dog._

"Aww, Professor, I'm deeply hurt! How could you say such a thing about me?" Cane whined dramatically from the door.

"Because it's true."

He entered the room and smiled broadly at McGonagall. "Hi, Professor, I'm glad to see you. I've really missed you. Have you missed me?"

McGonagall looked at him and sighed deeply. "You're a real scoundrel, Cane Black, and you don't deserve to be missed by anyone...but I've really missed you."

His smile became a real grin. "I knew it."

Sirius was staring at them with disbelieving eyes. McGonagall certainly was not the type to smile at anyone as if he was her beloved grandson, but somehow, she was doing just that. _ The world has gone mad, not me alone._

Later, while the five of them were having dinner, he decided it was inevitable. He and Remus had been McGonagall's students for seven years and they still could not get rid of the habit of thinking over each word they were saying in her presence. The children, on the other hand, had never seen her as something different from...their dear old aunt, maybe? Sirius grinned at himself, picturing his stern ex-professor as anyone's beloved aunt, let alone his own son's. Still, Cane and Morgaine's behavior did not leave any place for doubt: they thought of McGonagall as an old-fashioned, strict, and somehow annoying relative, but they liked her and enjoyed her presence without feeling awkward. _That is something I doubt Remus or I will ever achieve, no matter how much we repeat to ourselves that she's an equal now._

They discussed the news about reinstating the Order, Sirius and Remus reported what they had done, and McGonagall told them what Dumbledore's further instructions were. When they started talking about the necessity of finding a new Head Quarters, Sirius felt slightly embarrassed. _There will be another place,_ he thought,_ no need for me to interrupt._

Unfortunately, it became clear that there were no other proper places, so Sirius felt obliged to share his idea with them. They did not hear him well at first.

"Please talk louder," Remus told him.

"My parents' house," Sirius muttered through clenched teeth.

Two days later, Sirius, Remus, and the kids entered the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Sirius provided light with his new wand – it was only a day old – and they found themselves in a dark hall without windows. Everything was covered in dust – the table, the old paintings, and the threadbare old carpet they were standing on.

"Cozy little place, isn't it?" Sirius asked.

"No," Remus and Cane answered simultaneously. Morgaine looked like she was struggling with nausea, probably caused by the smell of something rotting away.

"You've got good taste, both of you," Sirius told them. "So, here we are. I think our first business will be making the air proper to breathe. That means finding the source of this remarkable smell and throwing it away. Any objections?"

The other three shook their heads.

"I can see why you ran away," Cane muttered. "Remus, have you ever been in this lovely place?"

"No," Remus answered. "Well, yes, in fact, once. Sirius' family wasn't too glad to meet his friend the half-blood."

Cane raised his eyebrows. "Not his friend the werewolf?"

"I wasn't stupid enough to enlighten them about _that_ little detail," Sirius explained.

"Oh."

"Yes."

Morgaine tugged at Sirius' sleeve a little and made a gesture as if to enfold the whole house, then raised her head a little.

"No, Princess, I don't think there's anyone living in this house."

"Then where did these tracks come from?" Remus asked.

Sirius looked at the carpet. There were traces, clearly printed in the dust, and small, like the creature that had left them had been...

"Oh Merlin, no."

"What's that?" Remus asked, concerned. "Padfoot, are you all right?"

Sirius paid him no attention. Instead, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "KREACHER!"

"What is that creature he's talking about?" Cane asked.

"I don't know."

The aforementioned creature turned out to be a very old house elf, so old and wrinkled that his skin seemed at least four sizes bigger than him. There were tufts of white hair protruding from his large ears and enormous snout-like nose. His eyes were bloodshot and terrified, and when they caught the sight of Sirius, they became angry, too. He bowed so deeply that it was almost an insult.

"Master," he muttered. "Master Sirius."

"Kreacher," Sirius spoke with disgust. "What are you doing here?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf answered.

Morgaine made a reproachful gesture Sirius did not understand.

"Why are you calling him that?" Cane helped him. "Morgaine is asking why you are calling him a creature. Honestly, I agree with her. I think that he deserves a decent name of his own."

"That is his name," Sirius explained impatiently. "Kreacher. And let me tell you, he deserves nothing. Merlin, Kreacher, I hoped you had died in the meantime."

"Stop it, Sirius!" Remus said sharply.

"So, Kreacher is cleaning," Sirius said disdainfully. "I find this hard to believe, seeing what a mess it is here."

"Kreacher is cleaning," the house-elf insisted and then he added in an undertone, "And now his entire job has failed and Kreacher has to start all over again after the Master had been here, the ungrateful scum who broke my Mistress' heart by befriending Mudbloods and Muggles, and they're here too, the freak that has been raised by the half-blood – "

"Hey, Remus, I think he means us – you and me. The freak and the half-blood!" Cane suddenly laughed.

"It has to be us," Remus agreed.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Kreacher," Cane said, very politely. "Your Master is not leaving. In fact, none of us are. You'll have to clean all the time because we're here to stay. What are we going to do with that charming Kreacher, Sirius?"

"I'm afraid we've inherited him, along with the house. He's seen us now, so we can't just kick him out. He'll betray us given the slightest possibility."

"Great," Cane muttered.

"The blood traitor and the unnatural brat of his have come here to bring more shame upon the noble house of Black – "

"Shut up!" Cane yelled and the muttering stopped. Oh, Kreacher's mouth was still moving furiously, but there was no sound coming out.

"Good job," Sirius approved.

"What happened?" Cane wondered. "I don't understand."

"You've just given him an order. Kreacher may hate me because I am a blood traitor and you because you're my son, but he cannot refuse to obey you. We're still Blacks, both of us."

"I think I could live without that honor," Cane said.

"Me, too," Sirius agreed. "So, that was our old house-elf Kreacher. He adored my mother, tolerated my father, doted on my brother and my sister, hated me, and would have probably tried to strangle you in your crib had he known that you were a Metamorphmagus. His Mistress would have given him that order, trust me."

"What a nice family," Cane said sarcastically.

"A nice family, indeed."

"I take it these were the noble ancestors of ours?" Cane pointed at the old paintings.

"Yes, the former generations of Blacks and – oh, bloody hell!"

Sirius was looking at an old portrait that happened to be one of his mother's. She was older than he remembered her and even more disgusting, saliva and all...and she was just waking up!

"Oh bloody hell," he said again.

"SHAME OF MY FLESH! BLOOD TRAITOR! HOW DARE YOU COME BACK TO MY HOUSE AFTER BRINGING SUCH SHAME TO THE WHOLE FAMILY!"

"Nice to see you, too, Mother," he answered tiredly. "Remus, Cane, help me cover her with some cloth – "

"HOW DARE YOU COME BACK FROM AZKABAN TO THE HOUSE YOU DISHONORED? YOU'RE A DISGRACE TO MY FATHERS, AND NOW YOU'RE BACK HERE, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!"

"You old hag!" Cane suddenly yelled. "I'm sorry you're dead because I can't kill you myself! Shut up before I invent a way to destroy that disgusting picture of yours!"

He landed his fist at the portrait and his grandmother kept stunned silence for a moment. That was enough time for Sirius to cover the portrait with a dusty black curtain.

"Nice woman, my mother was," he said ironically. "But why were you so mad? Cane?"

He turned to Cane and saw he had gone very pale and his teeth were clenched. Morgaine's face was tear-stained and her mouth was opened in a soundless scream. They both looked horrified.

"What's wrong, Cane? Morgaine?"

Cane did not look at Sirius. He was desperately searching Remus' eyes. Remus' right hand was holding his daughter's and he now looked at Cane intently, trying to calm him down.

"Calm down, both of you. She is dead; she can't do anything to hurt you."

"Remus," Cane whispered.

"I'm here."

"Remus, that's the woman who killed Elise."


	5. Accepting the News

**Disclaimer: I know that I don't own anything and you know it.**

_Thank__s to everyone who reviewed._

_Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for helping me improve the story._

Chapter 5: Accepting the News

_A few hours later…_

That evening, the air was bracing and quite cool for June. But Cane liked it and felt refreshed. The air seemed to restore his strength as he walked the streets of Paris, following the river.

Ever since bolting out of the house at Grimmauld Place, he had been feeling stunned, horrified, and panicked. Now, even as he was walking in the night, the feelings did not disappear, but he seemed to have gained some control over them. For a brief moment, he wondered whether Remus was worrying about him right now. _He probably is,_ Cane decided, and that thought gave him some dark pleasure. He was still furious at Remus for keeping the truth from him all those years. He had no idea what to do, how to deal with this revelation, but he knew that he would have to. He had no other choice. It had happened. And he was going to survive.

Her face filled his mind: the wide smile, the blue eyes that changed to grey when she was angry, the slight pink shade of her skin when faced with a nice surprise. She had been dead for four years and the pain had faded, but it had come back anew in its full force. _Did you know, Elise? Did you know who she was? Did you know who you were defending me from?_

She would not have wanted for him to feel guilty, but it was inevitable. He was so deep in thought that he did not even realize that he had changed his route and was now walking away from the river.

Suddenly, he knew where he was going: to see Raymond Lupin. His Uncle Raymond, the man who had seen him growing up along with his own children. He was the only one who could help him, who could explain what had happened and why Remus had decided to keep it from him.

Pamela Lupin, Raymond's wife, opened the front door only a few moments after the ringing of the doorbell. She looked surprised to see him standing there. "Good evening, Cane," she said politely.

"Is Uncle Raymond at home, Pamela? I need to see him immediately."

"But we have guests this evening, Cane. We are entertaining for dinner, don't you remember?"

Now, Cane remembered. Well, that explained why Pamela was officially dressed and made up. This dinner had been planned weeks ago and he himself had been invited. He would have come if the latest events had not forced him to stay in England.

Pamela looked at him more closely and did not like what she saw. He looked awful. Her professional sense – because she worked as a mental specialist, a relatively new area in the wizarding world – told her that he was very upset. "Come in," she invited him.

Cane hesitated, but entered the house nonetheless. "Do you want to join us?" the woman asked.

He smiled slightly. Suddenly, the idea of a dinner, conversations, music, and people – and no thoughts about Elise and his grandmother – seemed very alluring to him. "Yes, but give me a few minutes," he said. "I can't barge in like this."

She nodded. "You can go to Arion's room," she said. "He won't mind if you borrow some of his clothes for the evening."

"Thank you," he replied.

He climbed upstairs and entered the bathroom that was connected to the rooms of both twins – Arion and Arielle. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized that his face was grey-brown, his eyes reddened, and his lips were twitching convulsively. There was a foul taste in his mouth from his earlier vomiting. He washed his face and poured himself a glass of water. As soon as the liquid touched his lips, he realized how thirsty he was.

He entered Arion's room and sat on the bed, but looked up at the sound of the opening door. "You look terrible, Cane!" Raymond exclaimed. "What happened? Are you ill?"

"No, I'm not, Uncle Raymond. And no, nothing happened. Well, something did happen, but everyone is okay," Cane said quickly, giving an answer to Raymond's unspoken question. "Sorry for bursting into your house like that. But I needed to talk to you."

"I'm listening."

Cane shook his head. "Not now," he said. "You have guests and I wouldn't want to distract you. I just need some answers, that's all, but I can wait."

"Do you want me to call Arion?"

Another shake of the head. "No, leave him be. There's nothing that he can do, and anyway, maybe I'm just overreacting." But he knew that he was not. "I'll be all right."

Raymond's deep blue eyes were concerned, but he did not comment. "Do you want to meet the guests?"

"In a few minutes. Let me set myself in order."

Raymond knew a dismissal when he heard one. "All right, I'll be waiting for you," he said and left.

For a few minutes, Cane remained sitting on Arion's bed, trying not to think about anything at all. Finally, he stood up and, without feeling uncomfortable, opened his friend's wardrobe and started looking for a proper outfit. He soon found one – black, to match his mood. _And my name, _he thought with irony. He looked around. The room was nice and clean, unlike Cane's own den – and Cane's own life right now, for that matter. But no, he would not think about that now.

He went downstairs and stopped for a moment in front of the living room, mobilizing his native self-confidence. Then, he stepped inside.

Immediately, his expression changed to one of good spirits and no problems. His lips curled in a smile, his dark eyes started shining and he looked lively and cordial when he went to his closest friends – Arion Lupin, Noel Lerois, and Charles Montresorre. The room was full of people. Cane knew most of them – Raymond's friends and colleagues from the magical hospital of St. Lazarre's. His gaze was attracted to the brown hair of Margo Saint Claire – Raymond's sister in-law. _ Ex-sister in law,_ Cane reminded himself bitterly. The fall of Raymond's marriage to Sylvie Saint Claire, Arion and Arielle's mother, was another major change in their lives.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Arion asked as soon as Cane stopped next to them.

"What a warm welcome," Cane grinned. "I can turn around and leave, you know."

The others laughed.

"I decided to come here and bring some joy into your lives," Cane announced dramatically, "because without me, you'll be lost in the clutches of droll social life."

"You and your self-opinion," Noel muttered. "Did you really have to dress like a raven? We know that your dark face corresponds to your soul, there is no need to accentuate it."

"Shut up, Milky Face," Cane, who really was quite olive-skinned – at least in his true form – answered good-naturedly. It was Noel's turn not to get insulted.

A few minutes later, Cane started to relax, to feel comfortable around the other three, reacting to the merry spirit that seemed to have taken everyone here this evening. They were his closest friends – he had known them for years. Arion and he were inseparable since Remus and Cane had moved to France soon after Voldemort's fall. They were the same age and had been Sorted into the same house at Beauxbatons almost eight years ago. That was where they had met Noel. Charles, a year behind them, was a nephew of Elise's – another long-time friend. Cane thought that they would need each other more than ever now, when the Dark Lord had risen again.

Noticing Cane's sudden silence, Arion said, "Come on, mates, he needs to take a breath. What do you want, Cane? White wine?"

"No, thanks. Just water."

Arion went to the big table and poured a glass of water. Cane reached to take it, but Arion did not give it to him immediately. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Cane gave him a sharp look. "Of course I am. Why are you asking?"

Arion did not say anything, but Cane knew that he had not believed him. _ Of course he hasn't, I wouldn't have believed him either if he had told me such a blatant lie. _Sometimes, friends who knew you too well were a bit of nuisance.

"Hey, are you giving drinks around?" a female voice asked. "Can I have a glass of champagne?"

They both looked at the familiar face. It was Cissy Lerois, Noel's twin sister – a beautiful girl in a blouse and a skirt of white tulle. Her silver-blond hair and light grey eyes would keep the attention of every man – except for those who knew her from her first year at Beauxbatons. Or those who had no taste for blondes. Cane preferred red-heads. Like Arielle. He looked at her from across the room. She noticed him and waved. He smiled and returned the greeting.

Charles Montresorre had come to them, while Arion was still pouring Cissy a drink. He looked at her and smiled a slow, provocative smile. "Hey, Cissy, my beautiful silver-eyed dream, I'm thrilled to see you here."

She laughed. "You are thrilled to see every girl, everywhere."

Charles readily admitted it, "Yes, that's right."

He was young and being one quarter Veela, he was quite handsome and popular with the girls. Not Cissy, though. Not that he was particularly heartbroken – they both enjoyed their little harmless flirt.

Her face turned serious, and when Arion handed her the glass of champagne, she did not take a sip. "I was talking to Fleur and Arielle," she said. "They both believe…is it true?"

_So much for spending a nice, careless evening._ Soon, the young people who knew each other from Beauxbatons gathered together and started discussing the new situation. Looking at the other groups of guests, Cane could feel that at least half of them were doing the same. Only when they sat down to table did the conversations turned to light, pleasant topics.

After dinner, Raymond started pouring various drinks for the guests. Cane went to him and said, "For me, a glass of liquor." He had not looked at the variety of drinks, so he added, "As bitter as possible."

Raymond looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh? If you are in such a foul mood, why not a big Bonnie Prince Charlie?"

"Do you have a bottle of that?" Cane asked.

"Yes, we do, but we are not giving it to you," Arion interrupted. "Anyway, since when do you drink that awful stuff?"

Cane looked at him and smiled. "Why, don't you like it? When we were little, you loved it as much as I did. You drank it in enormous sips, when Uncle Raymond wasn't watching."

"Yes, but as far as I can remember, it made us both sick. But all right, if that's what you want."

Suddenly, Cane changed his mind. Getting drunk would not help. "Just cognac, please."

A minute later, Arion was Levitating trays in front of him and so was Cane – being considered almost a child in the host's family obviously had its disadvantages, like helping the guests being served. He smiled at seeing Sebastien Montresorre, the current European dueling champion and a cousin of Arion's, doing the same. A champion or not, there were certain obligations that Raymond expected of one to fulfil.

The last person in Cane's list for serving was an attractive dark-haired woman – a colleague of Raymond's, Selena Lerois. She was also the mother of Noel and Cissy, although she looked nothing like them, with her black eyes. Cane handed her the glass and she smiled and said 'thank you'. He took his own glass, Levitated the tray onto the nearest table, and looked at her. "A votre sante, Madame Lerois!" he said.

"A votre sante," she repeated. And then, looking at him, she took a deep breath and asked, "Is it true?"

He did not need to ask what 'it' was. "Yes, it is."

She turned visibly pale. Cane could not blame her. She was a witch, but she had married a Muggle. She had given birth to half-blood children. People like her would be one of the first targets for the Death Eaters.

"But that's only Harry Potter's word," she said, still refusing to give up her hope. "Unless…does Dumbledore believe him?"

Cane looked at her with curiosity. "Yes, he does," he confirmed and saw the desperation in her eyes. "So you know him," he said. She looked angry with herself.

"I am English. I attended Hogwarts," she answered reluctantly.

"Oh! Did you know Remus Lupin or my father?" His curiosity was growing.

"Everyone knew Sirius Black," she replied, too quickly. "I've seen him in the halls, but we weren't in the same year. We weren't great friends."

Cane nodded and changed the topic. But while they talked about other things, he was left with the impression that Selena Lerois had known Sirius Black far better than she wanted to reveal. And he could not help but wonder why she had chosen to lie.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two hours later…_

Sirius was worried. In fact, he was terrified. A million thoughts crossed his mind, none of them reassuring.

Remus had sent Morgaine to bed more than an hour ago and then had not come back. Sirius was glad; the tears in Morgaine's eyes and the worry in Remus' was the last thing he needed right now. The ultimate proof for his low spirits was the fact that he was currently sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, yelling at Kreacher. The muttering and swearing of the old house-elf at least dragged his mind from the thoughts and speculations about where Cane might be and what he might be doing at the very same moment. After hearing the truth – for the first time, it was the unedited truth – of Elise's death, Cane had started shouting at Remus for keeping him in the dark and had bolted out of the house, lost in a mix of rage, confusion, and hurt.

A very dangerous mix it was…and Sirius' mind kept going back at the last time when he had felt such a mix of feelings. James and Lily dead. Chasing Peter. The Aurors who arrested him. Azkaban. _No, he won't do anything stupid,_ he told himself. _Not that stupid. Or would he? _Cane's temper seemed to resemble his father's too much for Sirius' comfort.

Suddenly, green flames appeared in the fireplace and burned to life. A Firecall. Sirius knelt next to it and looked at the fire, expecting to see Dumbledore's face surrounded by long white beard, but the head that appeared in front of him was Raymond's. "Cane is here," Remus' brother said curtly and Sirius breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's with you?"

"Yes. He'll be back when he decides that he wants to. It might take a few days. Tell Remus and Morgaine that he is fine. He told me that they might be quite concerned about him."

"_I_ am quite concerned about him," Sirius reminded him.

Raymond did not seem impressed. "Yes, of course. Good-bye." And his head disappeared. The green flames died.

"Bastard," Sirius said to the empty fireplace and finally let himself relax.

Many miles away, in his house in Paris, Raymond stood up and went upstairs, to his son's room. He was not surprised to find there not only the two boys, but also Arielle, who had changed from her evening dress but still wore her make-up. They were so close that the twins must have felt that something was wrong, despite Cane's good acting skills. "You said you wanted to ask me a question," Raymond said. "Ask."

"Did you know that the woman who killed Elise was my grandmother?" Cane asked sharply. Arielle gasped.

"Yes." Raymond had been expecting that revelation for years. "How did you know?"

"I saw a portrait of her – "

"I thought Remus told you."

Cane laughed bitterly. "Remus? He would have rather taken that secret to his grave."

Raymond was silent. He knew that Cane was right.

"Why?" Cane asked. "What happened? I knew she was aiming for me, but I thought it was because I was a Metamorphmagus…" He had met too many people calling him a freak. An abomination. Something that shouldn't have been allowed to live at all. He was used to that – for him, Remus, his Veela friends. Many people had attacked them, sometimes physically, because they felt that there was no place in the world for such abmormalities.

Raymond was struggling for words. "You know that your grandfather, Orion Black, left you everything he had, don't you?"

Cane nodded. He rarely thought about that, but yes, he knew about Orion Black's will.

"Sirius was in prison and so was Bellatrix Lestrange. Both were unable to inherit. I suppose that without a will, everything would have gone to Narcissa Malfoy – the house, the fortune, everything. Orion Black wanted you to have it. That's why he wrote that will – to make it sure. Unfortunately, your grandmother did not share his sentiments. According to her, Sirius stopped being her son years ago and I suppose she must have been furious at the reading of the will. The house of her fathers, the Black fortune – everything would have gone to a boy who she detested."

Raymond said nothing more. There was no need, everyone knew the rest. Mrs. Black had tried to kill Cane in the street of Paris and Elise had defended him with her own life, falling under the Killing Curse. The next Avada Kedavra shot by the old woman at Cane had ricocheted, killing her instead. Morgaine, who had witnessed the accident, had been unable to pronounce a single word ever since.

"She was mental, you know," Raymond finally said, repeating the explanation that Remus had given Cane years ago.

"I do. But she was also a relative of mine and no one mentioned that fact."

"That was Remus' decision. He thought he was doing what was the best for you."

"And did you approve?"

"No. But it was not my decision to make. I mean, in the beginning, it was unthinkable to burden you with that knowledge, you were too depressed. Later, I thought that you should know. Remus did not agree with me."

There was no self-justification in his voice and that calmed Cane's temper a little.

"Where did you see the portrait?" Arion finally asked.

"Grimmauld Place. Sirius donated the house for Headquarters of the Order."

"Excuse me?" Arielle interrupted. "The house is not his to donate."

Cane looked tired and totally indifferent. "It is," he said. "It's his and everyone else's. Not mine. I don't want it. I want nothing that used to belong to _that woman_. Sirius thinks that he inherited everything and I am more than willing to leave things like this."

"Cane – " Raymond started.

Cane raised his voice, "I don't need anything from his family. I don't need anything from _him_. I am young; I can make my own way into the world."

Raymond and his son exchanged a quick glance. They both suspected that Cane was treating Sirius civilly only because of Remus and now his hostility towards his father was starting to show. They did not leave him time to dwell on that.

"All right, I'm going to bed," Raymond announced, "and I would strongly advise all of you to do the same."

"Can I stay here for a while?" Cane asked.

"Do you need to ask?"

A few minutes later, there was a second bed Conjured in the room and Arion and Cane went to sleep, dreaming of better times gone long ago.


	6. Settling In

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

_Thank__я to everyone who reviewed._

Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for betaing this.

Chapter 6: Settling In

_Five days later…_

"For Merlin's sake, this place is sinister," Arion muttered.

Cane threw a look at him and grinned. "I told you so."

"I hate that complacent smile of yours," his friend said. "How can anyone live here?"

Cane's grin broadened. "It was worse when we first came here," he said. "It was just as ominous, but it was also dirty and fetid."

Arion snorted, still walking one step behind Cane. "I can see why Sirius ran away," he commented.

"I said the same thing," Cane confirmed. Then, he had an idea and changed his face slightly. "_Lumos!_" He yelled it at the top of his lungs and woke his grandmother's portrait – just the effect that he was hoping for. The additional effect was that the other portraits also woke up and started making disgruntling noises, looking at him. He laughed. "Yes, noble Blacks, it's me!"

"YOU MONSTER! HOW DARE YOU SET FOOT IN THIS HOUSE! YOU ARE THE WORST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO THIS FAMILY, EXCEPT FOR THAT FATHER OF YOURS, YOU FILTH! BLOOD-TRAITORS, HALF-BREEDS, MUDBLOODS, AND NOW YOU ARE HERE TOO, TO MAKE THE DEFILING OF THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS COMPLETE – "

"Nice to see you too, old hag," Cane said politely. "This is Arion Lupin – another blood-traitor. He will be staying here with me because he is a very dear friend. Arion, meet Mrs. Black, my lovely grandmother."

"YOU ARE NO GRANDSON OF MINE!"

"I completely agree."

Arion shook his head. "I can't believe it," he said. "When you first told me about that portrait –"

"You didn't believe me," Cane finished for him. "I know. One has to see it to understand."

"How do you put a curb on it?"

"By putting curtains in front of it," Cane said.

"YOU SHOW ME RESPECT, YOUNG MAN!" the portrait screeched.

For a first time, Cane shouted, "Shut up!" and when she did not, he just raised his voice, drowning her screams very effectively. "Now, I talk and you listen. First of all, stupid old hag, you're dead and I'm alive, so if anyone is shouting here, it's me. Second, unfortunately, I can't kill you, because you are already dead, so I'll have to do the next best thing – I'll turn this house into a nice place to be lived in. I believe that Sirius will agree with me. All your prized possessions, all Dark artifacts will be thrown out. And when the war ends, I'll remove the wards shielding this house. The front door will be opened day and night and all our friends will come and leave whenever they want – blood-traitors, Muggleborns, humans, and non-humans. And then," he added in a sudden burst of inspiration, "I'll take my girlfriend to live here and you know what? She's a Muggle! Not even a Muggleborn! A Muggle!"

The Muggle girlfriend was just a figment of his imagination, because Laura was not a Muggle. Well, she was not his girlfriend either – not exactly. She was, as Arielle put it in her moments of malice, his shag friend. His _fantaisie_. Never mind, he did not want to explain his life situation to the old woman, just to spite her.

"HOW DARE YOU SCUM – "

"I said SHUT UP!" Cane yelled, successfully silencing her again. "Get used to it, because that's how it's going to be from now on. For eternity. That's how it's going to be from now on!"

Arion watched with disbelief the incredible scene.

"Hear that?" Cane yelled, looking at the other portraits. "Hear it, you all? Yes, I can see you do. All right, get ready for the most miserable days – months – years on your walls. Get used to it, noble Blacks, Cane Black is here to stay!"

Under the unendurable accompaniment of Mrs. Black's shrieks, Cane and Arion closed the curtains in front of her portrait. Then, in perfect unison, they each turned to one side of the hall and motioned a long curve with their wands, Stunning the other portraits, who had also started making noise.

"_En conflit dramatique_," Arion muttered in French. "Have you ever thought of making a career in Muggle theatre, mate?"

A loud applause stopped Cane from answering. They turned around and realized that they had audience: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Morgaine, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, a bushy-haired girl, and a sea of red-heads who could easily pass for Arielle's siblings.

"Nice to see you," Cane said pleasantly, immediately switching to his good mood and smiling. Two of the boys – twins – laughed aloud. Cane met Remus' eyes and nodded ever so slightly, showing him that everything was all right. Remus visibly relaxed.

Everyone went to the kitchen. "Very good show, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, "but maybe it's time to return to your natural form, don't you think?"

"What…ah, this!" Cane had forgotten that he had changed his face. Now his nose was slightly longer and his cheekbones were softer. His skin was pale – nothing like his usual olive complexion that he had inherited from his half-Italian mother. "I just thought that this face would aggravate her the most."

Sirius gave him a scrutinizing look. "You look familiar," he said. "Where have I seen this face?"

Cane laughed, as well as few of the others. Sirius looked confused.

"It's you, Sirius," Remus explained helpfully.

Now, it was Sirius' turn to laugh. "It's true!" he exclaimed, looking at Cane. "Merlin, it's true! It's really me!"

"Just like Sirius looked in his seventh year, Albus, remember?" McGonagall asked.

Cane grinned and morphed to his true form, earning a few gasps from the spectators. "Hey, how did you do that?" one of the red-heads wanted to know.

"He's a Metamorphmagus," the bushy-haired girl explained. "You are, right? You have to be."

Cane nodded, smiling. "It seems that you've found a kindred spirit, mate," he told Arion, who only shook his head, exasperated. "She seems very clever."

"He's a Meta-what?" one of the twins asked.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," Cane explained. "I can change at will."

"Actually, you change so often that it's a miracle you haven't forgotten what you really look like," Remus said.

"Well, what can I say, I am really talented."

"And modest, I see," Sirius pointed out.

"Modesty is for those who have no other virtues," Cane answered, quoting Sirius to Sirius himself.

The Animagus turned aside, moved more than he had expected by the fact that Cane remembered such a small, silly thing that he had once said.

"So, you can change into anything?" one of the twins asked.

"Anything."

To prove his point, Cane tensed his facial muscles, closed his eyes and when he opened them, there was no Cane, but a _third_ Weasley twin. The kitchen burst into applause. Cane morphed back into himself and grinned. "Sorry, guys. I just couldn't resist."

"Cool," the twins both said at the same time. "It would have been so great if you had come to Hogwarts. Why didn't you?"

"Because I went to Beauxbatons," Cane explained. "And because our dear Professor here – " he looked at the pale McGonagall " – loves the order in her classroom too much to let me ever set foot at Hogwarts."

The three born pranksters had found each other in no time. Arion only groaned.

"Is there a problem, mate?" Cane asked innocently.

"Yes, there is," Arion confirmed. "My guess is that these are the Weasley twins that we've heard so much about. Right?" He waited for them to nod. "Just remember that the Order needs this house for meetings. You will create problems if you ruin it. Keep that in mind, all three of you, will you?"

The twins looked at him with newfound interest, immediately recognizing him as worthy of interest. Cane sighed. "Caution is my middle name, don't you know?"

"I wish you had come to Hogwarts," one of the twins said longingly. "Just think of all the opportunities. You could have impersonated Filch and made a love confession to Madame Pince – "

"You could have turned into the Headmaster and give Flint a month of detention just before the final match – "

"You could have turned into Snape and given Slytherins a whole book to write for homework – "

"You could have turned into Dumbledore and give Snape the sack – "

"Fred! George!" an older woman, obviously their mother, exclaimed horrified.

Cane grinned and extended his left and his right hand, so he could shake the hands of both twins at the same time. "I believe this the start of a beautiful friendship, guys."

Behind them, a female voice started muttering, "He's not at Hogwarts. He's not at Hogwarts."

McGonagall was repeating her mantra over and over again.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two days later…_

Cane Black had seen the effect of the Wolfsbane Potion much more times than he could count and yet, each full moon he accepted it as a miracle and a blessing.

He was at the door of the basement a few minutes before the moonset. As soon as he was sure that the transformation had finished, he pointed his wand at the door and with a quiet "_Alohomora!_" opened it.

Sirius, who was kneeling next to Remus, looked with surprise at the person who had dared to enter the basement, but his face softened when he recognized Cane. It did not, however, lose its expression of amazed wonder. "I would never believe it possible," he whispered, covering his unconscious friend with a blanket. "He did not try to attack me or himself. He knew who he was, who I was. I thought it would never happen."

Cane slowly nodded. "I felt the same way, when I first saw the effect of the potion. No matter how often I've seen it, it always feels like wonder."

Sirius silently picked Remus up and carried him upstairs. Cane walked in front of him, opening the doors with his wand. Once or twice, he threw a look over his shoulder, but when he saw the care that Sirius was holding Remus with, he felt reassured and did not look again until they had Remus tucked in bed in the room that he shared with Sirius.

Sirius sat next to him on a chair and Cane sat on the other bed. They were both watching Remus, who was deeply asleep. "He'll sleep like that for a few hours," Cane said, "and when he wakes up, he'll want to have a shower and then breakfast. In a few days, he'll be completely restored."

Sirius looked thoughtful. "So, that's his routine now," he said. "I wondered…."

Cane looked at him. For the first time, they felt no tension being in each other's company. Their concern for the man they both held dear had brought them closer, for now at least. "Much different than what you remember from Hogwarts, right?"

"You have no idea. It became easier when we learned to transform, but before that, it was just sleepless nights and worries whether he would make it or not. We felt so helpless."

Cane slowly nodded. "I think I remember something like that from the time when I first lived with him. Before he met Elise and shortly after. But I'm not sure. I didn't know he was a werewolf then and anyway, both he and Elise kept us aside for those periods."

"Elise." Sirius' voice trailed off. "You miss her, don't you?"

"Every day," Cane answered simply. "She was a part of my new life from the very beginning. We were a terrific family. I'm not sure I appreciated it then. I do now."

A silence filled the room. They both looked at Remus, who moved slightly, but did not wake up. "You don't remember me, do you?" Sirius asked, barely audibly.

Cane shook his head. "Not really. Not much. Sometimes, I remember the flat here in London. I remember Mum putting me to bed and coming to check on me later. I can smell her perfume and feel her hands adjusting the blanket. Other times, I remember very clearly you throwing me up in the air. You're throwing me so high that it feels like flying. We are both laughing. I know I was never afraid when you were throwing me. I knew you would always be there to catch me. And I remember hearing my mother's voice. 'Sirius, be careful,' she's saying but she's laughing, too."

"And that is all?" Sirius was both relieved that he had not been completely forgotten and disappointed that Cane remembered so little.

"No, that isn't all." Suddenly, there was a brief cold expression crossing Cane's handsome, expressive features. "I remember some other things… including a few ones that I'd rather forget."

Sirius did not ask what those things were. He was too afraid of the answer.

Cane stood up. "I have to Firecall Arion," he said. His friend had left surprisingly the day before. "I'll be right back."

"At this time?" Sirius exclaimed. "Cane, he's probably still sleeping. It's barely five o'clock."

"Believe me," Cane said darkly, "he's fully awake."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	7. The Boggart

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...sniff, sniff.**

_Big thanks for all reviewers of this story. _

_Great thanks for saiyanwizardgurl, for betaing._

Chapter 7: The Boggart

About a month later, Cane entered the kitchen of Grimmauld Place early in the morning. He made himself a cup of coffee, but when he turned round to sit at the table, he collided with someone and only his quick reflexes saved him from being splashed with the hot black liquid.

"M'sorry," they both muttered at the same time.

"It's okay," Cane continued, "it's still in the cup."

He placed the cup on the table and sat on the nearest chair. Now he could have a better look at the person who he had bumped into. He, as well as Cane himself, was now rubbing his sleepy green eyes. _ It's really early and it's a shame I couldn't sleep more. Merlin, I'm so tired, why can't I fall asleep again? _The man in front of him was not a man at all but a boy. He was no more than fifteen, with messy black hair and glasses. Cane had seen him in Remus' old pictures, but he had had brown eyes instead of green….

"You really look just like your father, you know? I am Cane, glad to meet you."

Harry shook his hand. "Harry Potter," he said and Cane grinned.

"I know. I've heard a lot about you from the twins."

Harry blinked, obviously trying to wake completely. "I haven't heard about you at all. Are you Fred and George's friend?"

"A new one. I met them a couple of weeks ago. I'm Cane Black, Sirius' son."

Harry's eyes, which had been drooping, suddenly snapped open. "Sirius' son?" he repeated, hoping that he had not heard correctly.

Cane chuckled. "Ah, I can see that my wish not to be associated with the infamous traitor has come true. Most people don't remember he ever had a kid."

Harry looked even more confused, the glass of water he had come to pour for himself completely forgotten. "But you are...you must be twenty or so. Sirius just isn't old enough – "

Another chuckle. "Actually, I'm almost nineteen and while I agree that eighteen isn't the best age for becoming a married man and a father, seventeen is just the age to make a…mistake."

Harry gaped. "Are you saying that Sirius – ?"

Cane nodded. "Don't look so shocked. I shouldn't have said that, you are too young, but yes, I think that's it. Sirius is really awfully young to have a son my age otherwise."

"Are you living here now?"

"Sometimes. It's an awful place, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, at least the company is pleasant."

"Oh, yes, the company. From what I've heard, everyone would make a better company than your pig of a cousin."

"You seem to know a lot about me."

"I do. The twins, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, everyone wants to talk about you. Remus was so excited when he had the opportunity to teach you."

Harry was surprised. Surely, Lupin was polite enough and concerned about him as well, but excited to teach him? He somehow doubted it.

"So, you know Lupin?" he asked.

"I live with him. He took me in after Sirius went to prison and my mother died."

"I don't know you from Hogwarts. Why aren't you attending? Are you – ?"

Harry did not finish the question, horrified by his own lack of tact. If Cane had not received a letter from the school for magic, there could be only one reason.

Cane frowned. "What's it?" he asked, a bewildered air around him. "What is it that you feel too uncomfortable about to ask me?"

Harry did not answer, but Cane suddenly guessed what the younger boy had in his mind and laughed. "Oh, you think I'm a Squib? Don't worry, I'm not."

To prove his point, he closed his eyes and when they snapped open again, they were green, like Harry's, and his hair was messy, again like Harry's. The only difference between the two of them was the fact that the false Harry did not wear glasses.

The real one blinked. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm not a Squib, but a Metamorphmagus," Cane explained, morphing back into himself.

"I saw Tonks yesterday, but I never knew that a Metamorphmagus can change into someone else. It's just like the Polyjuice Potion," Harry exclaimed and Cane grinned.

"Only without the foul taste."

Harry shuddered, remembering the awful taste he had had in his mouth for hours after the potion had ceased its effect. "So, why aren't you at Hogwarts, Cane?"

"Because I went to Beauxbatons," the other boy explained. "We were living in France when I started school. Oh, someone is coming. Hope it isn't Kreacher..."

Sirius entered the kitchen, rubbing his sleepy eyes, his long dark hair disheveled. When he saw them, he smiled.

"Hello, you two. I see you have already met. Cane, when did you arrive?"

"Late in the night, or early in the morning, as you like it," Cane shrugged. "Can't sleep anymore...came here for a cup of coffee."

"How was your mission?" he asked, making a cup of hot chocolate.

"Just like we expected it to be," Cane sighed. "No great success with these people. You see, the French Ministry is just as unwilling to face the highly unpleasant fact of Voldemort's return as the English one. Some people even hinted that they would use all their power to sabotage any 'illegal actions that may result in causing ill-founded panic among the ordinary wizards.' And I've quoted that word for word."

Sirius' face darkened. "Bloody idiots!"

"That's what I said," Cane agreed. "Unfortunately, it seems that I've inherited someone's tendency to speak rashly and that caused some...problems..."

Sirius only groaned. "Snape will have the time of his life at the meeting tonight," he said. "Oh, Merlin, you have such luck...of all the things you could have inherited from me, you had to get my impulsiveness. Why didn't you take after your mother's patience?"

"Because I happen to have an impatient, hot-headed father," Cane answered. "And I've taken after him. Remus says he never has the time to get bored with me."

Sirius nodded. "He used to say that to me, too," he said, his hands never ceasing their work.

"How is he?" Cane asked with concern. "It's not long till the full moon. Is he all right?"

Sirius hesitated for a brief moment. "Yes, he is. He's been taking many shifts lately and the effort to take Harry so close to the full moon has exhausted him a little. He needs his rest. I came here to make chocolate for him."

"It's okay, I'll take it," Cane said immediately. "Anyway, I haven't seen him for more than two weeks. I'll drink my coffee and he'll drink his chocolate. Perfect. See you later, Harry."

He took the cup from Sirius, took his own in the other hand and left. Sirius looked at the closed door for the moment and sighed almost inaudibly, then sat at the table.

"Is Lupin really that bad?" Harry asked and finally decided to pour himself the glass of water he had come for.

"Tired, that's all."

"Is it true that his coming to fetch me has made him worse?"

Sirius shrugged. "Almost everything makes him tired when the full moon is coming near. He needs to sleep. There's nothing more that anybody could do. And Cane's arrival will cheer him up."

Harry sat at the table opposite Sirius. "I never knew you had a son."

In fact, he felt slightly offended that his godfather had not thought it necessary to inform him about such an important detail.

"We hardly had enough time to discuss this while I was living in that cave, Harry," Sirius said. "Besides, I had lost track of him after his mother's death. I didn't know where he was."

"Didn't Lupin tell you?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I was afraid that he could have been endangered if an owl sent to me was intercepted. The Ministry would have been too happy to get its hands on my friend the werewolf if given the slightest possibility. I didn't dare contact him. If I had, he would have told me. I found out only this summer when I went to his place."

"Oh." Harry did not know what to say, so he chose to say nothing at all.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and smiled at him. "Has he morphed into you already?"

"Oh, yes!" Harry answered. "He almost made me doubt my eyesight."

Sirius laughed out loud. "That means only that he likes you."

"Likes me?" Harry repeated.

"Remus says so. According to him, Cane morphs only into people he likes. He's already made Mad-Eyed Moody, Kingsley, and another Weasley twin." For a moment, Sirius fell silent. After that first day, Cane had never morphed into _him_.

"And how did Mrs. Weasley like it?" Harry asked and secretly wished he had been there to see it himself.

"She was too surprised to say anything. But McGonagall was so happy."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Happy? I can't see why – "

Sirius grinned. "Because he's not at Hogwarts. I can easily imagine the nightmares she must have had that night about Cane and the Weasley twins all at the same school."

"So, how long has he been living with Lupin?" Harry asked.

"Since his mother died, a month after I went to prison."

"Did the Death Eaters kill her?" Harry had hesitated before asking the question but he wanted to know.

Sirius shook his head. "No, no the Death Eaters. A Muggle car accident. After that, Cane was sent to an orphanage. Now he lives with Remus and Morgaine...have Ron and Hermione told you about Morgaine?"

"No, who is she?"

"She's Remus daughter. Don't be surprised when you talk to her for the first time and she doesn't answer back. She can't speak."

"She can't?"

"No," Sirius confirmed, "she never speaks. But she hears all right. She has a Parchment that writes her thoughts for her."

Harry seemed impressed. "Does she attend Beauxbatons, too?"

"Yes."

Harry was not as interested in the still unknown girl as he was in Cane. "Is he going to stay here?"

"Just temporarily. In September, he should start his Auror training. He's just been accepted."

The evident pride in Sirius' voice made Harry swallow. He felt suddenly sad. He had believed he had finally found something like a family in the face of his godfather, that he had found someone who had placed him first and now he had found that Sirius had a son of his own. Cane was older than Harry, handsome and self-confident; he had the rare gift of a Metamorphmagus and had succeeded to pass the hard exams for the Auror training. It wasn't fair!

"Is he in the Order?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he is." Sirius frowned. "I can say that Remus wasn't too glad, but he did nothing to stop him. After all, Cane is almost nineteen. Remus isn't his guardian anymore. It's good that Cane is back, now he could take some of Remus' shifts and let him rest more."

"He always seemed very ill at Hogwarts," Harry remembered, "after the full moon."

"Yes, but he would hardly let someone care for him and take some of his duties. Even when he needs it. Remus isn't very good at taking care of himself. And I'm imprisoned here and I can do nothing for him. I can't even take some of his shifts."

Harry left Sirius to his dark mood and returned to the room that he shared with Ron. At first, Sirius did not even notice that the boy had left. He was staring at the table, as if he wanted to find some sense in its edge.

The door cracked open and Sirius looked at it before sighing, "It's you again!" And then, in a louder voice, he ordered: "Leave my sight!"

Kreacher's immediate subjection made Sirius raise his head and look at him. The house-elf was leaving without making any comments about the blood traitor. In fact, he was not saying anything and that made Sirius shudder with the anticipation of something unpleasant.

"What are you carrying in your hands?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing, Master. Kreacher is cleaning," the house-elf murmured.

"For the first time in how many years?" Sirius said disdainfully. "Show me your hands!" He almost barked the order. "I want to see what is in them."

"Master has always been a curious little brat," Kreacher began muttering while approaching Sirius with obvious reluctance, "used to stick his nose where it didn't belong. My Mistress used to say he – "

What Kreacher's Mistress had used to say remained unknown because Sirius had seen the object that the house elf was trying to hide from his view. It was a stick, broken in two pieces. Sirius pulled it out of Kreacher's hands and examined it closely. It was...

"Is that Morgaine's wand?" Sirius asked, very quietly and very menacingly.

The house-elf did not answer directly. "The little half-breed never deserved a wand at all," he began to mumble under his breath. "The mute monster who came here from nowhere to soil the noble house of Black, oh my Mistress would have never allowed such a stupid insolent brat to enter her house, but Master brought all his friends, traitors, mongrels, and their spawns here, but Kreacher made it better, oh, yes, the little freak of nature is now unable to mess up the noble house of – "

"Enough!" Sirius bellowed. He was still staring at the broken wand in his hands and calculating the damages. Remus had mentioned that his daughter's wand had been done specifically for her, so Sirius did not expect that it would be easy to find another fit for Morgaine just waiting for her at Ollivander's. It was obvious that the kid would have to wait until her new wand was made. It might take a long time because wand-making was not an easy process. Meanwhile, she would be unable to communicate with the others except for her father and Cane and maybe Hermione and Ginny, who shared a room with her, and Sirius himself. The three of them could understand her sign expressions to a certain degree. The others could not.

No wonder she hardly let anyone touch her wand. Sirius had been amazed by the way the wand reacted to Morgaine's mental commands and he had wanted to look at it closely. He had never realized that its lack could make the girl so vulnerable.

"Come here, you nasty little thing," he growled and seized Kreacher by his wrinkled neck.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Molly Weasley cried entering the kitchen.

Sirius stopped shaking Kreacher and turned to face her. "Look at this!" he spat, pointing the broken wand. "The little monster has broken Morgaine's wand!"

Molly gasped. "Oh, the poor dear! What are we going to do now? We have to take her to Ollivander's immediately!"

"Yes," Sirius agreed angrily. "How do you think she's going to feel when she wakes up and finds this? Kreacher has done it on purpose, I'm sure."

"I suspect you are right, Sirius," Molly agreed, "but that still isn't a reason to treat him this way. Just let him be. And you," she finished looking straight at Kreacher, "if you do something like that ever again, I'll make you sorry that Sirius hasn't laid his hands on you."

"The blood-traitor has no right to give orders in my Mistress' house, and she has brought her little spawns to stick their noses everywhere, but Kreacher can't fight this because his Master, the awful ingrate, had brought them here..."

"Enough! Now, get out before I strangle you!" Sirius hissed at Kreacher, and the house-elf left the kitchen, still muttering about disgrace and his Mistress.

"I'm sorry about this," Sirius sighed. After their battle the previous night, he felt obliged to behave extremely politely with her.

"No need to apologize," Molly answered just as politely, "it's not your fault. Do you want breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I'm not very hungry," he replied and then corrected himself, "But maybe Cane will want breakfast and I know for certain that Remus needs one, too."

"Cane has returned?"

"Last night. I suppose he may be asleep right now."

But when Sirius came into the bedroom he was sharing with Remus, he found that they were awake. Cane was sitting on Sirius' bed talking animatedly to Remus, who listened carefully. They both looked happy and relaxed. Sirius felt a cold hand touching his heart as it did sometimes while he was watching them.

"How are you two?" he asked, forcing a smile and Levitating the tray with breakfast to the table.

"What's going on?" Remus asked immediately. "You look like – "

"I've just caught Kreacher trying to throw out Morgaine's wand. He has already broken it in two pieces."

Cane jumped up. "That little – "

"Cane, sit down!" Remus said sharply. "Are you sure it can't be repaired, Sirius?"

Sirius shook his head. "It's broken. We should take Morgaine to Ollivander's as soon as possible."

"Don't bother," Cane said, sitting on the edge of Remus' bed. "Ollivander won't be able to do it this soon."

"Why not?"

"We need to contact Vivienne first. We need a hair of hers for the core of the wand."

"Does Morgaine's wand contain a Veela's hair?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Remus confirmed, "but it's more complicated than that. When Ollivander made the wand, he tried to put in it as much mind as possible. He used a mix of ingredients: Veela's hair, werewolf fur, and Metamorphmagus' hair, all this twisted in one."

"Your _fur_?" Sirius was amazed. "I've never heard of a wand that contained more than one ingredient in its core."

"We hadn't either," Cane said," but Morgaine needed a clever wand to react to her mental commands. It just so happened that our hair turned out to fit best. Maybe Morgaine recognizes us on some level."

"Do you really believe that?"

Cane shrugged. "Maybe. I like to think so."

"We'll have to contact Vivienne," Sirius concluded, "and then wait for you to change, Remus, so we can take the fur we need."

Remus snorted. "I've never thought that one day I'd be glad for the full moon rising."

Sirius only sighed. _I can see we're going to have a really long day._

He was right, of course. Morgaine's trembling lips when she learned what had happened to her wand and the tears she fought to prevent from falling turned out to be enough to almost break his heart. It took incredible restraint to stop him from strangling the little malicious house-elf.

Then there was the tapestry. The memories of his fights with his family became brighter, more painful. Mundungus and Molly had a real fight over the issue of some stolen cauldrons and that had darkened the mood even more. To top it all off, no one seemed to remember not to ring the bell, and Sirius had found himself turned into a tamer or at least, a real fighter with his mother's portrait. In addition, Harry looked moody, probably worrying about the consequences of his underage magic. _What a lovely day, indeed._

In the late afternoon, everyone seemed to be trying to escape from further cleaning. Even Hermione had gone to have a look at the garden and had not returned yet. Harry took the first opportunity to slip out of the living room when Mrs. Weasley was not looking in his direction. Not knowing where to go, he decided to walk around the big house, passing by the stuffed heads of the house-elves and strolling through another corridor.

The cleaning had not reached this part of the house yet, Harry realized almost immediately. Everything was covered in dust and the boy found his breathing difficult. _What has Kreacher been doing all these years, really? _There were strange squeaking sounds, shouting and muffled wailing. _ It seems like the house itself is protesting pitifully against the perspective of being cleaned,_ Harry thought darkly. Maybe Kreacher lived somewhere in this wing and was now mourning the loss of his Mistress' valuables; that would explain the sobbing he could hear clearly...but was Sirius there, too? No, the angry voice was certainly not Sirius'...but he sounded very familiar, too...

Harry frowned and pushed the door to the left of him open, his wand raised in readiness. Then he felt very silly because it was only Cane and Lupin in there. Neither of them noticed him. He had heard them arguing, that was all. He was about to leave the room as quietly as possible when something made him stop. Maybe it was the expression of horror on Cane's face. It was a real horror and not anger. While Harry was uncertain as to what he should do now, the other boy whispered, "Stop, please, please, stop!"

_Stop what?_ Harry shook his head in a vain attempt to understand. Something here was wrong – very, very wrong. Lupin did not stop. Instead, he raised his voice, "And to think how happy I was when I finally could take you in! I wanted to give you a normal home, stability, I loved you as if you were my own, and what did I get in turn? What good did I get from having you around? Tell me, Cane!"

"No!" Cane said in a trembling voice, "No, it's not real, it's not..._Riddikulus!_" he yelled and pointed his wand at Lupin.

Harry heard a slight crack, but nothing happened. Lupin kept speaking harshly, maliciously, "I'll tell you what raising you brought me: constant owls from Beauxbatons, watching through my shoulder for your serial tricks, spending money on you and a dead wife. That's what I received in turn for saving you from the orphanage, isn't it?"

"Stop!" Cane was visibly panicked. "Stop it! It's not real, it's not, it's not..._Riddikulus!_"

Again, nothing happened. Suddenly, Harry realized what was going on. He stepped in front of Lupin and shouted, "Hey! Over here!"

The Boggart laid its eyes on Harry and changed shape. There was no Lupin there anymore, but a Dementor instead. Harry almost sighed with relief and yelled, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

For a moment, it seemed that everything was all right. The deer appeared, white and shining, and the Dementor stepped aside but when Harry looked away, he saw Lupin standing in front of Cane again, as if the Boggart had not yet finished feeding from Cane's fear.

"Don't just stand there, boy!" a new voice said harshly, and Harry realized that the old man from the portrait on the wall was looking straight at him. "Bring someone! Move!"

It was really the best thing he could do. Harry fled for the door but even running through the corridor, he could hear Lupin's voice shouting: "Elise is dead because of you! My daughter is unable to speak because of you! I had to leave my whole life in France behind me, again, because of you. That's what you brought me, Cane: only misery. Merlin, and to think how happy I was when I was allowed to take you in! What a fool I was!"

Harry could not hear Cane begging for an end anymore but that did not reassure him. It only meant that the other boy was losing his resistance and that Cane was possibly beginning to believe that it was really Lupin saying those things.

"Sirius, thank Merlin you're here!" he breathed when he saw both his godfather and Lupin going upstairs. "There is a Boggart. Cane can't deal with it and – "

Sirius' face had gone pale before Harry could finish the sentence. "Where?" he asked sharply. "Harry, where is he?"

"A study...in the other part of the house – "

The three of them reached the study quickly. Sirius and Lupin had already pulled out their wands when Harry pushed the door open.

Cane was crouching on the floor near the desk. Tears were streaming down his face; his eyes were closed and he was pressing his palms to his ears but it was no use: Lupin's voice – the Boggart's voice – could surely be heard all over the house.

"You didn't want Elise and me to have a child of our own because you wanted all our attention for yourself! When Morgaine was born, you found her annoying, useless, and stupid. You even wanted her to lose her voice because you thought she cried quite loudly. Well, your wish came true, didn't it, Cane? It came true because of you. Now she doesn't cry loudly, she cannot speak at all! She lost her voice and her mother lost her life, Cane! _Her life!_ Because of that mad woman who tried to get rid of you and Elise happened to be there, and she died because of you! It's your fault, Cane, and you know it, it's all your fault!"

The real Lupin stepped inside the room and the Boggart saw him and turned into the full moon.

"_Riddikulus!_"

With a popping sound, the moon turned into a sea of yellow bubbles. For a moment, Harry was sure that the Boggart would revert back to Lupin's shape again, but it exploded into numerous tiny pieces and disappeared.

Lupin went over to Cane and knelt beside him. "Sssh. It's over, Cane, it's all over. Look at me. It's gone."

Cane was still pressing his palms against his eyes. Lupin gently removed them and lifted the boy's tear-stained face so he could meet his gaze. "It was only a Boggart, it wasn't real. You know it wasn't me."

Cane nodded. His eyes were fixed on the older man's face, barely noticing the presence of the other two people in the room.

"I just wanted to clean this cabinet," he whispered shakily. "It was so quiet; I could never have guessed that there was something inside of it at all."

Lupin took the boy's hands in his own and started gently rubbing them. "I understand. It was only a Boggart. It wasn't me. I would never tell you those things. You know that I wouldn't."

"I know, Remus, I know, but still – "

"No 'stills', Cane. I would never tell you those things because I don't think them. Any of them." Lupin's left hand was still holding Cane's, while the right one was rubbing the boy's back. "Do you hear me? What happened was a tragedy, but it wasn't your fault. Elise died on her own choice, just as I would have done, given that choice. Nobody forced her to face Mrs. Black, but she did it because she wanted to. She valued your life more than her own, just as I do. You didn't ask that crazy woman to come for you. It wasn't your fault. It isn't. It was only a stupid Boggart."

His voice sounded more confident than he himself was. To find out that his anger – and maybe even hatred – was Cane's biggest fear had really shocked him, partly because it had never occurred to him to accuse the boy of being the reason for Elise's death.

Finally Cane spoke, pressing his face to Remus' palm and still paying no attention to Harry and Sirius, "It was supposed to be a scorpion. It used to be a scorpion, you know, Remus, like the one you taught me to defeat when I was twelve."

"You've never faced a Boggart after that, have you?" Remus asked mildly, and they both knew he was not referring to Cane's first Boggart lesson.

Cane shook his head. "No, I haven't. What an Auror I'm going to make!" he laughed bitterly. "One of the best students in my year. One of the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Passed the Auror entrance examination the very first time. Now what? I can't even deal with a stupid Boggart. Great one, aren't I?"

"Well, now we know what the problem is and we'll find a way to fix it," Remus said calmly, pleased to see that Cane was feeling better.

Cane turned towards Harry and Sirius. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said, regaining his composure. "And, Harry, thank you. I could never have dealt with it alone. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry answered awkwardly.

"Now, I think you should come with me, Cane," Remus said. "Come on, I think that a piece of chocolate would be good."

"Okay," Cane said obediently and followed him to the door. "I knew it was a Boggart, Remus, of course I did. But it was so _real_. I just freaked out, I couldn't fight it, and I was so afraid that it came back to me even after Harry – "

"I know that much. Calm down. It's all over. You really thought it was me, hmm? Come here. I'd never think such a smart boy could be that stupid."

Their voices became more and more muffled while they walked away. Harry did not dare to move, too shaken by what he had witnessed. Sirius had hidden his face in his hands.

"Now, that was very... interesting," he said, at last looking at Harry. "I hadn't expected that, of all things."

"Sirius, what happened?" Harry asked. "Why did Cane freak out like that? What has he done to make Lupin his Boggart?"

Sirius sighed heavily. "Elise was Morgaine's mother."

"Morgaine's mother?" Harry repeated.

Sirius looked irritated. "Well, Morgaine should have one. Only in Muggle myths people could be born from their fathers' skulls. So, Morgaine's mother was Elise and they were a happy family – Remus, Elise, Morgaine, and Cane. Then, a few years ago, my mother decided that a little blood traitor Metamorphmagus was not worthy of claiming the noble name of Black. She tried to kill Cane herself."

Harry was horrified. "Her own grandson?"

Sirius nodded. "She appeared in a Parisian street while Elise was shopping with the children. Elise tried to protect Cane and she and my mother had a fight. Finally, my mother succeeded at throwing the Avada Kedavra Curse at Cane, but Elise stood in front of him. The spell backfired, of course, and my dear old mum died immediately. Unfortunately, so did Elise."

"And Cane witnessed this?" Harry's voice was very soft.

"He and Morgaine did. Since then, Morgaine hasn't spoken a word. The shock." Sirius shook his head. "I'm sure Remus has never thought of blaming Cane for any of this, but it seems like Cane himself has many issues to deal with."

Sirius looked extremely grim and upset. Harry could not think of anything to say, so he left him in the dirty study and started for his own bedroom. He felt no animosity towards Cane now. The other boy had not exactly chosen Sirius for his father, and right now he seemed to have too many fears and problems for Harry to be angry at him anymore. Cane seemed to have met just as many difficulties in his life as Harry had. He was not the ideal boy with the ideal life that Harry had portrayed in his mind. It was almost incredibly that only this morning he had felt a touch of envy towards him.

In Sirius and Remus' bedroom, Cane did not feel like a person who should be envied. He was lying on Remus' bed and Remus was rubbing his hand. Cane just could not stop talking.

"Sometimes, at night, I still think that in the morning everything will be as it used to be. You in the study, Elise preparing breakfast, Morgaine and Julian chattering about everything under the sun – "

"Sometimes, I think so, too."

"We were happy, Remus, weren't we?" Cane looked at him.

Remus smiled. "Yes, we were." The smile disappeared. "I'm sorry, Cane."

Cane frowned. "Sorry? What have you done to be sorry for?"

"I should have known about your feelings of guilt. If my mind hadn't been so preoccupied with other things, I would have realized it long ago. I'm sorry."

Cane squeezed the hand that was holding his own. "It wasn't that bad until I found out who did it, that my own grandmother was the one responsible."

"I knew you'd have felt bad had you known. That's why I decided not to tell you about the attacker's true identity. Elise didn't die because of you. She died because she wanted you to live more than anything. More than life itself. Just as I do."

"Remus..."

"Yes?"

"You've never made me feel like an outsider, even in the very beginning, when you took me from the orphanage. You always made me feel wanted, needed. You and Elise, and later Morgaine."

"You were wanted and needed, Cane. You still are."

"I know. But Sirius' appearance's made me feel...I don't know exactly. Insecure…It's my fault, Remus, and not yours. In the beginning, each night after I went to bed, I wondered whether you've changed your mind and would send me away in the morning."

"Cane – "

"Later, I realized you wouldn't do that. I knew that you wouldn't do that," he repeated slowly. "I wasn't alone anymore. It was you and me, and Julian, we were a set. Then Elise came, and Morgaine, and it became even better, but that mad woman cast the curse and ruined everything. She wanted to kill me and not Elise. How could I _not_ feel guilty? And finding out that she was a blood relative of mine made it even worse, as if I was connected to what happened even more. And you should know about something else. In fact, I want to ask you something."

Remus looked in Cane's eyes. "What is it, Cane?"

"I was so happy with you – all of you – and after I met Sirius, I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if events had taken another course. If I had lived with him and my mother."

Remus remained calm. "That is completely natural, Cane. A completely different life from the one you had with Elise and me, that is for sure."

"Yes. But I keep wondering something."

"Ask me, then."

"I wanted to live with you, all of you. Now we know Sirius is innocent. If he had been proven innocent years ago and had appeared on our doorstep to search for me, I would have begged you to leave me with you."

"Cane," Remus began as he resumed stroking his hand. "I hate what happened to Sirius. It wasn't fair and it hurts me to look what it has done to him. It hurts seeing what it's still doing to him. If Sirius had appeared on our doorstep, I would have helped him with anything I could. I would have offered to him any kind of support, everything – except giving you back to him. I would have probably been forced to do so – everyone would agree that children should be with their fathers and not their werewolf guardians – but I would have tried. I would have fought him in every way possible to keep you with me. I don't feel guilty because of that. What happened wasn't my fault. It wasn't yours, either, and neither was it Sirius' fault, but that's life. And facts." Remus smiled at Cane. "Did I answer your question?"

Cane smiled back. "I think so." The smile faded. "I miss her," he said suddenly. "I miss us. The way we were."

"Me too," Remus whispered.

Cane ate the last bar of chocolate and yawned. "I feel better."

"I'm sure you do," Remus nodded. "I feel better, too."

Remus' better disposition was spoiled in no more than an hour when Sirius poked his head through the door to inform them that Dumbledore had arrived and wanted a private conversation with the three of them before the official meeting started. _This can't be good._

"I'm afraid I've got bad news," Dumbledore said as soon as Cane and Remus joined Sirius and him in an empty room, fortunately a cleaned one. Sirius and Remus exchanged worried glances.

"It seems that Voldemort has developed a special interest in you, Mr. Cane Black."

Cane blinked. "Me? But why? I'm not special; I'm not some sort of great danger to him, I'm too young and I haven't received any special training."

Dumbledore looked at him with sympathy. "On the contrary, Mr. Black, I believe that you are holding the key for something that is of major interest for Voldemort."

"And that would be?"

_I don't like the sound of that, _Remus thought, looking at Sirius. "I don't like it either," his friend replied, almost silently.

Dumbledore continued, "I'd like all of you to look in this Pensieve. I think that one of you may see something that would be useful."

No matter how much Sirius and Remus disliked the idea of Cane being a special target for Voldemort and his Death Eaters, they had to look in the Pensieve Dumbledore had brought with him. Sirius held his breath. Whatever it was that he had expected to see, it certainly was not this. His three-year-old son in the middle of a circle of hooded people, with a green mark rambling into the night sky.

"Very well, my friends," came Voldemort's voice from the middle of the circle where he had just Apparated. "I see you've brought the child here. Soon our enemies will feel the full extent of our power!"

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	8. Down the Memory Lane

**Disclaimer: I think I've made it per****fectly clear that I own nothing. J. K. Rowling does!**

_Thank__s to everyone who read this story, especially to those who reviewed it._

_Thanks to saiyanwizardgurl for betaing this._

Chapter 8: Down the Memory Lane

_That'__s impossible!_ Even while he was thinking this, Sirius knew it was true. This _had_ happened, and Sirius knew when. Those five days when Cane had been missing had been among the hardest in his life; he had relived them thousands of times in Azkaban.

The child was looking at the hooded figures without the slightest hint of fear. _Of course, he cannot understand the danger that he is in. _Cane was three years old, not two, as Sirius had initially thought, but still too young to have any idea what was going on. _What is this, really?_

"Give me the child, Crabbe," Voldemort said, and the big figure that was holding Cane kneeled in front of his Lord and handed him the boy.

"Keep your bloody hands off him!" Sirius hissed, irritated and terrified at the same time. Cane squirmed, trying to escape, but Voldemort held him tightly.

"Such a lovely child," he said. Sirius had heard that phrase thousands of times during the first four years of Cane's life, but this time he did not feel pleased at all.

"So lovely," Voldemort continued softly, his thin hands stroking the child's face. Sirius almost yelled in horror and disgust. "A real pure-blooded wizard. What a pity that he was born to parents that despise his heritage."

None of the Death Eaters seemed to understand their Master's intentions, but no one dared to ask him.

"So, how did you get him?" Voldemort asked.

Lucius Malfoy answered, "Rosier and I waited for the moment when he would be alone with his mother outside their flat. We managed to defeat her and take the boy."

_So__, it was you, you bastard! I'll kill you myself, Malfoy!_

"Did you kill her?" Voldemort's voice had become even softer, but Malfoy flinched in fear. "I ordered you to let her live."

"She's alive, my Lord," Malfoy assured him. "We put her under the Cruciatus Curse, but she's alive. She will recover."

Sirius felt the urge to kill him. Of course, being in a Pensieve, it was impossible to kill the memory. Angela had been found unconscious in a small street next to Diagon Alley. She had been taken to St. Mungo's where the most serious damages had been healed immediately, but even so, it had taken almost twenty hours for her to wake up. She had been terrified; she did not know where her little boy had been taken, only that it had been the Death Eaters. Sirius could have guessed that much without her help.

"This is the beginning of our actions against Dumbledore's so called Order of the Phoenix. That old man and his stupid people should realize their helplessness. Now, I want this boy taken good care of for the next five days."

There was a surprised silence among the Death Eaters. Sirius himself could not understand. Why would Voldemort keep Cane alive? What sort of care could his son expect from the Death Eaters? And why did Voldemort want to give him those last days, anyway?

"You will take him," Voldemort continued and pointed at one of the hooded figures.

"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eater replied. He bowed and took Cane in his arms. Sirius almost yelled in rage. He could recognize that voice anywhere. Regulus Black. His ex-brother. He knew that Regulus had been a Death Eater, of course. He knew that he must have tortured and killed innocent people before being killed himself. Sirius had broken all ties with his family many years ago. Still, he realized with surprise that the thought of Regulus taking part in Cane's murder caused him pain.

"Now, I want to discuss your next assignment," Voldemort continued coldly. Sirius could not tell who Voldemort was addressing, but he did not care right now. "The Muggle train crash tomorrow."

Sirius was not surprised at all. Crashes and disasters had reached a monstrous size during the last years of Voldemort's reign.

Everything went black. The next place they found themselves was the doorstep of an unfamiliar flat. Now Sirius could see the greasy black hair and enormous nose of the only person present. _We_ _are in Snape's memories_, he realized. Of course, he was younger, but undoubtedly still Snape. Right now, he looked nervous and impatient. Finally, the door opened with a cracking sound, and Regulus Black looked at Snape with surprise.

"Come in, Severus," he said, and Snape entered silently.

Sirius had never seen his brother's flat and was surprised to find out that it was not much different from the one he had shared with James in what he called the "Pre-Angela Period." There was a smooth black leather sofa, not unlike the one Sirius and James had had, a coffee table, and two armchairs. Sirius did not see anything else because Cane was huddled up in one of the armchairs, looking curiously at the two men. He looked healthy, Sirius saw with relief, and not frightened at all. Snape looked at him with disdain, and the child stuck his tongue at him. Sirius almost laughed, despite the fact that he still did not know what was going on.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" Regulus asked. "Don't leave your wand out of reach," he said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Snape and Cane kept looking at each other with mutual dislike. Regulus returned with a teapot and three glasses. He poured the tea and handed Cane his cup.

"Do you have a cigarette?" Snape asked, and Regulus shook his head.

"They make him cough," he explained and pointed at Cane with his chin.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "You're not transforming into a mother hen, are you?"

Regulus shrugged. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We are friends, Regulus. Do I need a reason to visit you?"

"Well, with Cane living here, I thought you might refrain from visiting."

Snape smiled darkly. "It only proves that you don't know me well enough, Regulus. Never mind, he looks quite calm."

"He's a child, Severus. Of course he looks calm. He doesn't understand what's going on."

Snape shrugged. "He looks calmer than his father, I should say."

Regulus frowned. "You've seen Sirius?" he asked sharply.

"I saw him today, in the street. He looked awful."

"It should be expected. That was the point of the whole story with the kidnapping, wasn't it?" Regulus said.

"Did the Dark Lord tell you that?" Snape asked ironically.

"No, but you know as well as I do that it couldn't be anything else. It's the beginning of a new strategy, pointed against the Order. Killing the members' children will cause panic and discouragement. Cane just happened to be the first. Both his parents are quite famous and Cane's disappearance is a serious strike."

_Of course it is,_ Sirius realized immediately_. If we, the members of the Order, can't protect our own children, how could we be expected to protect the whole world? That's why Voldemort didn't want Cane immediately killed. The searching and the hope of finding him in time would increase the agony and we would find him dead at the end. _Still, Cane had escaped somehow, not only alive but also obviously unscathed. Sirius almost had not been able to believe his luck when Remus had found him to tell him that in some miraculous way, Cane had appeared on his doorstep.

"When are you going to bring him to the Dark Lord?" Snape asked, and Sirius wished he could have been able to punch him hard on his smug face. Snape knew that bringing Cane back to Voldemort meant the death of the three year old boy, and he was _pleased_ with that. _And Dumbledore still insists that the git has repented._

"I'm not bringing him back," Regulus said casually.

"What?" Snape and Sirius asked simultaneously, the former verbally, the latter in his head.

"I'm not bringing him back," Regulus replied calmly. "I intend to – I told you not to leave your wand out of reach!" he snapped all of a sudden.

"Why?" Snape asked. Sirius looked at Cane's armchair just in time to see his son raising Snape's wand.

"_That's_ why," Regulus said when Snape's cup exploded in his hand, splashing him with tea.

Sirius almost laughed, despite how serious the whole situation was. Regulus went to his nephew's armchair and pulled the want out of Cane's chubby fingers.

"It seems that he doesn't like you much, Severus," he said, smiling while returning to his seat.

"Should I feel heartbroken?" Snape asked dryly. "So, what are you going to do with him if you don't intent to hand him to the Dark Lord?"

"Well, I'll bring him back to his parents instead," Regulus answered.

"_What?_"

"You heard me. I'm not killing him, and I certainly won't let the Dark Lord kill him, either."

"Are you insane?"

Regulus smiled. "Not much more than usual. I'm simply stating that this child won't be used in some perverted game of demonstrating power. Well, no child will be, as long as it depends on me, but this one least of all. You see, Cane is quite clever and simply too good to be sacrificed for some mad half-blood's satisfaction."

"You're insane," Snape said disdainfully. _Yes, he is,_ Sirius agreed. _Are you sure it's really my brother? Maybe it's just a Polyjuice Potion... _

"You're repeating yourself, Severus," Regulus answered. "Anyway, have you ever wondered how the Dark Lord could be descended from Salazar Slytherin himself _and_ be a pure-blood? I've made some investigations, and you may be interested to know that he is, in fact, a half-blood. Ironic, huh?"

"If I repeat a single word of this conversation, you'll be dead," Snape said.

Regulus continued smiling. "And does one know what can I say before death? A word or two about some spying, perhaps?"

Snape's expression did not change, but Sirius noticed his hands clenching into fists. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really? Let's stop, Severus; we don't have much time for your little games. I suggest for both of us not to reveal each other. Now listen, and listen well; you can repeat this to Dumbledore."

Sirius took notice that Snape did not object. He seemed to have accepted that, somehow, Regulus knew about his mission as a spy for the Order.

"I have in my possession something that is very important to the Dark Lord. It could also be important to the Order," Regulus said. "I can't tell you what it is because it will be better if you don't know." They both knew what he meant; if Snape did not know what Regulus had, he could not reveal it to Voldemort, even under the Cruciatus Curse. "It may be crucial for the outcome of the battle. It's a way to weaken his power and his...health…and his life."

It was obvious that Regulus was choosing his words very carefully so that he could give as much information as possible without actually saying anything concrete. "I tried to destroy it, but it was impossible for me. I think it's only the Chosen One who can destroy it. I know about the prophecy, so don't look at me like that," he added. "The problem is that no matter which boy is the Chosen One, he'll need at least fifteen years to grow up to be able to actually _do_ something. The object I stole yesterday must be hidden somewhere before that time. No, I can't tell you where it is now. It isn't safe."

"But someone has to know," Snape said, looking at Regulus as if he really had gone mad. For a brief moment, Sirius thought the same thing. How the hell could whatever Regulus has be of any use if nobody knew _where_ it was? Then it came to him, and Sirius almost gasped.

"Actually, someone _does_ know," Regulus said calmly, looking at Cane. "He does."

_Bloody hell, I was right!_

"Bloody hell! What are you playing at, Regulus?" Snape demanded angrily.

"That's a bad word, an' you should wash your mouth," Cane interrupted at once, and the two men – no, five including Sirius, Remus, and the grown-up Cane – looked at him with surprise.

"What are you saying, Cane?" Regulus asked.

"He said a bad word," Cane explained. "My mum always tells my daddy not to say it aloud and go an' wash 'is mouth because it isn't a word children should learn, and it is time for him to grow up because she is 'posed to have one child and not two," he said all in the same breath. "Go and wash your mouth," he told Snape and for a second time, Sirius felt the urge to laugh. The look on Snape's face was priceless!

Snape raised his wand and suddenly it was not funny at all. _Don't you dare touch him_, Sirius almost growled.

"_Silen – _"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Regulus yelled and caught Snape's wand when it flew from his hand. "Don't you _dare_ use magic on him, Severus!" he warned coldly before continuing. "I couldn't leave him alone here, so I took him with me while acquiring the object. I put a timed Memory Charm on him so he'll be able to remember everything about it when he's ready."

"When he's ready?" Snape exploded. "That will take at least fifteen years, Regulus! You know that 'being ready' for such a remembrance means 'when you can realize its importance' at the earliest. Fifteen years, at least!"

Regulus remained completely collected. "I know, Severus, but the Chosen One is still in his crib, so it doesn't matter anyway. By the time the Potters' or the Longbottoms' boy will be able to use the object, they will both be adults. That's the best I could think of. Now, I want you to leave so you're not suspected as my accomplice. It's bad enough that we're known to be friends. I don't want anything to happen to you. I'll bring Cane to his parents, and then I'll try to escape. If I have any luck, everybody will think that, being the coward I am, I've tried to resign. Nobody will suspect that there might be something else."

"Resign?" Snape repeated. "You have a peculiar way of choosing words, Regulus. Your...resignation will lead to your death. Are you aware of that?"

Regulus drank his cold, untouched tea in one gulp. "It doesn't matter," he answered bitterly. "I can't live like this anymore, Severus. The madness, the hatred, the things that we do...the things that _I_'ve done...I have to stop. I _need_ to stop, no matter what. If my death is the only way, then so be it. Of course, I may even get lucky and stay alive, who knows?" he added with a smile, which clearly told Sirius that his brother did not have much faith in his own words.

Severus stared at Regulus for a long moment. "I'll try to be in the group sent to catch you," he promised quietly. "I'll do my best to stop them from putting you under the Cruciatus."

Regulus nodded. "Thank you, Severus."

Snape stood up. "It's time for me to go. Where do you intend to leave him?" he asked, looking at Cane's direction.

"Lupin's front door, I think. I'll wait until he shows up, of course."

"Don't forget to _Obliviate_ him," Snape warned.

"I won't."

Snape gave Regulus one of his rare smiles. "Good luck," he said quietly.

"Same to you. Merlin knows we'll both need it," Regulus replied, and Snape left.

It became dark in the Pensieve, and Sirius knew that there were no more memories inside. He pulled his head out and looked at Cane's shocked face.

"He...he gave the knowledge of that thing, whatever it might be...to me?" his son asked, stunned.

"It certainly seems that way, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said calmly. "I take it that you have no idea what this knowledge might be?"

Cane slowly shook his head.

"What about you, Sirius? Do you have any ideas now, after looking at this memory? Regulus was your brother, you knew him well – "

"Not _that_ well," Sirius answered sharply. "I was one of those who took him just for an ordinary coward, remember?"

"Dumbledore," Remus interrupted, "is there a way to drag this memory out of Cane's mind?"

"No," Dumbledore answered without hesitation. "It should come naturally. Don't try to force it out, Mr. Black, because there'll be no use in that. It will come in its own time."

_Voldemort has no respect __for any time other than his own_, Sirius thought. "Can Voldemort drag this memory from Cane by force?" he asked worriedly.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Now, when Mr. Black is an adult, it is possible for him to remember. The only way other than remembering by himself is driving him to the edge of death. When the death is forthcoming, human mind releases itself. He'll be able to remember what the thing Regulus took was – "

"But he'll die after that," Remus finished for him. "Cane, you need to be very careful."

"Does Voldemort know about Cane, Dumbledore?" Sirius asked.

"I'm afraid he does, Sirius. Somehow, he has realized that Regulus had not only deserted him but betrayed him. Whatever we can say about Voldemort, he is all but stupid. He has realized that Regulus had told his secret to the only person known to have been with him during his last days – Mr. Cane Black."

"Just great," Sirius muttered angrily. "Cane, you must be really, _really_ careful."

"I will."

_We'll be, too_. Remus and Sirius exchanged glances.

After the meeting that evening, Remus searched the library, looking for a book that could possibly help them awaken the memory without waiting for Cane to remember it by himself. He did not find anything, but that did not discourage him because he went to the library again the next morning. He was surprised to find Harry there.

"Mrs. Weasley gave us a break," the boy smiled, "and Ron and Hermione are at each other's throats again, so I escaped here."

"What are you looking at?"

Harry shrugged. "It's only an old album. I found it by chance."

"Really?" Remus asked. "Let me see."

He sat on the sofa next to Harry, and looked at the first few pages. "Strange..." he said pensively.

"What's strange?"

"It's obvious that this was made after Sirius left this house. What is this doing here?"

"Are you sure?"

Remus nodded. "Look at this picture. Sirius is seventeen here and has long hair. And this is your grandparents' house. Look, it's Sirius with Cassie Davis, his girlfriend in our fifth year. What are all these pictures doing here?"

Harry did not know. Instead, he looked at the album again. There were many photos of Sirius with different girls and even more of him with his friends. Harry felt a pang in his heart when he saw his own father, grinning madly.

"Up to no good, no doubt," Remus commented, smiling. "I know that grin; it always meant TROUBLE in capital letters."

Harry chuckled and looked further at the photos. One of them in particularly made him pause. It was of Sirius and a dark-haired girl, whom he held by the hand. Neither of them looked happy, although they were smiling. Sirius was wearing a formal dark robe and the girl's gown was blue and laced.

"Who is she?" Harry asked.

Remus pointed at the girl. "That's Cane's mother – Angela. That's their wedding, in our last year at Hogwarts."

Harry looked even more intently. "She's beautiful."

Remus smiled. "Sirius certainly thought so."

_Did he__ really_? Harry wondered. For newly-weds, they both did not seem very happy. This impression was only confirmed when he looked at the next pictures. Angela's pregnancy was obvious there, and her smile seemed as false as Sirius'. However, there were a great number of photos in which she was actually smiling, Harry noticed. Lupin was in many of them, laughing with her, tickling her big stomach, walking with her in the park, listening to her animated talking. _What does that mean?_

"You seem to be good friends with her, Professor."

"Remus, Harry. Don't forget I'm not your professor anymore. Yes, we were very good friends. She moved next to us when we were both nine. There weren't any other wizarding families nearby, and we became friends very quickly. She was my first friend and the first who found out about my lycanthropy. By chance, she overheard one of my parents' conversations and then told me that it didn't matter and it would be our own little secret."

"_I won't tell my parents, because they will forbid me to __play with you and then I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone, Remus."_ Remus smiled at his memory.

"_Angela! __ Angela!"_

"_I'm here, in my room! What's going on?"_

_He came upstairs at one breath. "The letter! It came!"_

"_Well, of course it came__! Dumbledore told you that you could go. What, didn't you believe him?"_

"_No, I mean, yes, but...__I wasn't completely sure – "_

_The girl grinned and took her own letter, so they could compare them word for word. "We'll be in the same House, and we'll help each other in everything! Won't it be great?"_

_His grin mirrored hers._ _"Yes, Angel, it will be great."_

"_Don't call me Angel!"_

"Was she a Gryffindor, too?"

Remus blinked, drawn out by his memory.

_**Say it, say it, Hat. Just say 'Gryffindor' and finish**__** with it. Say it, say it...why don't you say it already?**_

"_Is she your cousin or something?" a boy next to him asked. __ "I would've thought she was your sister but you have different names."_

_Remus paid him no attention, because the Hat had finally shouted out its decision. _

"_Ravenclaw!"_

_**What? That's impossible! **__** We were supposed to be together! She can't be Sorted in Ravenclaw!**_

_Angela looked helplessly at him __as she walked to the Ravenclaw table. He tried to give her his best reassuring smile, but he himself felt desperate. They were not in the same House! Surely, they would have some classes together, and there was the Great Hall for meals three times a day, but it would not be the same. She would find new friends immediately because everybody would want to befriend a great girl like her. And he would be alone. No one wanted to be friends with a werewolf. Nobody but Angela._

"_Hey? It's not the end of the world, you know. __ You'll see her again," said a teasing voice next to his ear._

_**Oh, Merlin, I haven't been here for more than five minu**__**tes and they're already mocking me.**__ But when he turned towards the voice, he saw no scorn but a wide grin instead. Remus could not help but grin back._

"_I'm James," the other boy introduced himself. __ "James Potter."_

"She was one of the smartest girls in our year and, unlike many other Ravenclaws, she didn't spend all her time in the library. Yes, she was something very special. She saved my life. Her quick thinking and James' great speed saved more than either could have by himself..."

"_And that __**idiot**__ let Snape make him angry and he...don't fret, Remus, it's okay now...he told him how to get past the Whomping Willow."_

"_No. No. It can't be. I couldn't have bitten Snape. Sirius couldn't have told him my secret. No!"_

"_Calm down, Remus, it's okay! Fortunately, Snape thought that he could get you expelled with the information he had. Angela Peters heard him and something made her worry. She realized that it wasn't like some of his usual tricks. She found me, and we found Sirius to discuss it with him. When he told us what he had done, I ran after Snape and succeeded in dragging him out before you could bite him. But...he saw you."_

_Remus burrowed himself deeper into the pillow and remained in that position until he heard hurried footsteps._

"_Has he awoken already, __James? Oh, thank Merlin! Are you okay, Remus? Don't bother, Dumbledore has sworn Snape to secrecy...but I'll __**kill**__ Black!"_

_He didn't answer but __he felt her hand taking his. Hers was strangely cold but soothing. "Thank you, Prongs. And you too, Angel."_

"_Don't call me Angel!"_

"You managed to keep your friendship even after you were Sorted into different Houses?"

"Yes. Yes, we did."

"Why don't they look happy?" Harry pointed at a picture of Sirius and Angela. "Weren't they happy?"

"They were very happy," Remus smiled, "but for some time, they had a difficult period. Angela was very distressed over her own problems with her parents. We all agreed that it would be better if she came to my flat for some time."

"_They turned me out. __ Said that I've dishonored them, that I'm no longer their daughter and turned me out of the house this evening."_

"_Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry.__ I can't believe this! What did Sirius say?"_

_She didn't make__ a remark about him calling her 'Angel,' and that disturbed him even more. If she did not pay attention to that, it meant that she was very, very upset._

"_I haven't told him yet.__ We had a row yesterday and – "_

"_You've told him," Remus concluded, gesturing __for her to drink the orange juice he had given her._

_Angela nodded._

"_And what did he say?"_

_She didn't answer._

"_He doesn't want the baby, am I right?"_

_Again, she nodded miserably and the tears spilled from her eyes.__ Remus drew her close and stroked her back._

"_Th__ere, there. Don't cry; it's not worth it. Sirius was just surprised. I told you he would be, didn't I? He will come around, you'll see."_

_She sniffed. "Can I stay here? Just for two or three days until I know what to do next?"_

"_Of course__, you can stay as long as you want!" he exclaimed. "I'll be happy to have you both around. If this flat is big enough for me, it can certainly accommodate a person and a half more."_

_Angela smiled faintly. Encouraged by that, Remus said, "Now, you're going to have a long rest, and I'll make dinner. I'll go to bed early because I have a very important task for tomorrow morning."_

"_Really? What__?"_

_He grinned. "To find the loveliest teddy bear, what else could it be?"_

"She was the only person who stood at my side when all others thought I was a traitor."

"_You shouldn't have come. Sirius won't be pleased."_

"_That's his problem, not mine. I'm not leaving you alone after a transformation." She looked deep into his eyes. "You know I can't."_

_He sighed. "I'm glad you're here, Angel. I'm sorry for the problems that your visit will cause, but I'm glad you're here."_

_She began cleaning the last cut on his chest. "Sirius is Sirius. He's always shouting about something. I love him to death, but he's such a child sometimes. Everything always has to be done his way. You know him, he loves rows."_

_He smiled despite the pain in his new scars. "And you don't?"_

"_Well... maybe just a little." She met his gaze. "It's your fourth change alone, and it's even worse than the previous three. You miss them, don't you?"_

_His smile faded. "More than you can possibly imagine. Moony wants his pack back; he doesn't understand why he's suddenly left on his own. In a way, they prevented me from Moony's total invasion of my mind, you know that."_

"_I know, Remus...__I know..."_

_They were silent for some time. _

"_When we find the traitor," she finally said, "and when they see it isn't you, and come back to you, begging your forgiveness, will you give it to them?"_

_He turned his head, so he avoid her eyes. "I don't know, Angel. I really don't know."_

"_Don't call me Angel!" _

_They were trying to keep__ up their usual bantering, but the truth could not be denied: everything had changed._

"Do you have other pictures?"

"I do. These aren't mine, and I even doubt that the people here knew that these pictures had been taken. How very strange. Anyway, I have albums of my own, and many of the photos are of your parents. I'd like to show them to you, if you want."

Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

**A.N. **** This chapter was centered in the past, I know, but I felt that the story needed a bit of explaining. For those that expected some real action, I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, and I promise to give you your action during the next chapters.**


	9. A New Face

Disclaimer: **Nothing has changed. I still don't own anything except for my OCs. I love writing them!**

_Thank you all for reading and – __to some of you – reviewing. Thank you, OpenSoulSurgery, for sticking to this story as its newest reader._

**Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for reading and betaing the earlier version of this chapter. Whatever mistakes you can find in the current version, they are mine and not yours.**

**Chapter 9**

**A New Face**

It was dark in the room – the daybreak would come soon, but for now, it was just dark – and quiet. Arielle loved these hours, had always loved them, ever since she was a child. They had given her peace and times for thinking of her plans about the coming day and she kept this habit even now. Not that she expected much from the coming day.

Simon was sleeping next to her, his shoulder brushing her own. If she listened hard enough, she could hear his breathing. She closed her eyes.

The things between the two of them were not much of success. And they would not go on all right. She knew it and was wondering what the hell she was doing here. As soon as the morning came, she would put her clothes on and leave. It would be the best for both of them.

A few minutes later, she felt a slight movement next to her, but did not open her eyes.

He touched her breasts, first hesitantly, then more insistently. She distractedly pushed his hand aside. Unfortunately, the hand just went down on her body. Arielle knew what he had in mind and what he would do, but she was too tired to stop him.

He started caressing her. She paid him almost no attention, deep in thought. She barely registered the rustling of sheets. But his kisses finally made her feel a thrill and she started returning them…

And then the thing that she both feared and anticipated with some strange joy which could not be controlled by her will, happened. _Cane. Cane. Cane. I love you. I am yours. Always was. Always will be._ She could see his face, dark and expressive, with those incredibly white teeth, with the quick flash of his dark eyes…

"Arielle! You're hurting me!"

She heard the voice as vaguely as if it were coming from a very distant place, and felt it like a knife that had cut her insides. It brought her back to reality. Back to the room. Back to him. The pictures from her imagination collapsed all around her. She extricated herself from his arms and stayed without moving for a few minutes. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "What happened?"

"Your nails," he said and she looked at his back. There were a few red scrapes, slight, but distinctive. Arielle shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No, I shouldn't have said anything just then. It wasn't such a big deal, after all."

_You're damn right that it wasn't, _Arielle thought_. Not being able to ignore even the slightest discomfort, right? You're supposed to be the man here!_ She started feeling disgusted, both with him and herself, although he wasn't the one to blame. She was. And Cane Black.

She stood up, went to the bathroom, ran the shower and started scrubbing at her skin so hard as if she was trying to strip it off. _Damn you, Cane. If only you had found a girlfriend and stopped looking at me like nothing happened,, I would have forgotten all about you_. An image of Laura Charpantier crossed her mind and Arielle shook her head, splashing water droplets everywhere. _She's not his girlfriend. She's just his __**fantaisie**__, his caprice._ _Just a good shag._ Against her will, that thought made her feel a rush of deep joy.

She stopped the shower and quickly dried herself. Her dripping hair did not bother her at all – she would take care of it as soon as she took her wand. The problem was that she would have to tell Simon that it was over between them. It would not be pretty.

For a moment, she hoped that he had fallen asleep. But that would not solve the problem – they would have to face each other sooner or later.

Fortunately, he was still awake. He looked at her silently, while she was putting her clothes on.

"Leaving?" he finally asked.

"Yes." She had to be at Grimmauld Place Number 12 this evening, to visualize the headquarters and to give a report about the moods between certain members of the wizard society in France. She could not tell him that – she knew that he did not believe in Voldemort's return. Instead, she had told him that she had some errands for the day, which was basically true – she wanted to see her relatives on her mother's side, before heading for England.

"Angry with me for spoiling everything in the last moment? Again, I'm sorry."

"Never mind," Arielle said, drying her hair with a single wave of her wand. "Really, it doesn't matter."

There was something in her voice that suddenly irritated him.

"It matters to me," he said coldly. Since she didn't answer, he went on, "I've been suspecting it for a while, but this night, I know it for sure."

"Know what?" she asked, bored.

"That you don't want to be with _me_, because there is another man. You're in love with another man, Arielle, and I think you're a real bitch for using me like this."

Amazed that he involuntarily had come upon the truth, she slowly tucked her wand in her pocket. "I never used you," she said, her own anger increasing. She could feel that they would come clear once and for all.

"I never used you," he imitated her mockingly. "Of course you used me. And you're still doing it. Oh, and by the way, I think that your father is the same rotter like you for not inviting me to the official dinner."

Her dark eyes turned into two ice slits. Insulting her family was always the best way for anyone to check how thick his skin was. Still, she kept her temper under control. "My father and my stepmother don't know you and have no idea about our relationship. You and Ihave always agreed on having our separate lives, having our own friends and not turning into some special two-unity." Despite all her efforts, she had started raising her voice. "Our relationship has never bounded any of us... that was your wish, if I am not mistaken. Besides, you've never showed any interest in my family." That was true, despite being in their year at Beauxbatons, he had barely exchanged more than a few words with her brother Arion.

"I changed my mind."

"A little too late," Arielle snapped. "Besides, I haven't changed _mine_."

She turned around and headed for the door.

"Oh, I know that I'm not welcome in your precious little clique," he burst out, now really infuriated. "Merlin, you're making me sick, all of you! Lupins, Saint Claires, Montresorres... what impervious, haughty gang you are! Outsiders are not allowed to enter _your_ closed ring, _your_ private world. There is no place for us, common people, among snobs like you. One could think that you're some kind of royalties, just looking at the way you behave, ride the high horse, simper, and aim too high. And your stinking money! You're just a gang of snobs, each one of you. And of you ask me, you are a band of bloody inbreds, huddled together in your luxurious homes, shutting the outside world. Really, anyone can get sick of that!"

Stunned, she glared at him icily, with growing contempt. She was repulsed by his words, by his malice, but some of her brother's reserved self-control came to her and prevented her from answering in the same way. She would not let him provoke her. "I have to go," she said calmly. "I shouldn't have stayed for the night. In fact, I shouldn't have come at all. I'm sorry we have to break with such a bad feeling, but it seems that there is nothing more that we can say to each other." She shrugged.

"Go on!" he urged her. "Go to the man of your dreams. I have no doubt that _he_ has been invited to your precious dinner." He laughed bitterly. "I must admit that I am very curious about one thing. What is it that makes you permanently crawling back to _my_ bed, hot, nervous and barely waiting to leave, when there is another man who reigns over your heart? Is he a crown prince from one of the families? So gentlemanlike that you don't dare to reveal your true nature to him, before the two of you are really married with the blessing of your families? What's wrong, Arielle, don't you dare to sleep with _him_ beforehand? Or maybe _he_ is indifferent to _you_? Is it possible that your irresistible charm has no effect on _him_? And here I was, thinking that no man could resist you..." He stopped, when he saw the way her face contorted and realized that in some way, he must have hit the mark.

"Go to hell," Arielle spat and slammed the door behind her.

It was still early and the air outside was cool, but she liked it and decided against Apparating – she preferred to walk. A few minutes later, she was composed enough to sum up the situation and decide that it had been for good – their relationship was finally over. Simon would probably find another girl in a month or so. She had no idea what she would do in a month. Doing some researches for the Order, she supposed. She could work along with Arion – they were always a great team. Or with Fleur and Cane, although working along with Fleur would mean listening about Bill Weasley all the time. Arielle smiled – she had never seen her friend so infatuated with a man. Working with Cane... she thought about Simon's words again. _He_ _can't know_, she thought. Many people knew that Cane loved her – he was not exactly discreet about that. But no one knew that she loved him, not even he. That was her secret and she intended to keep it this way forever.

She arrived at home at seven o'clock with the intention of collapsing in bed for at least two hours, but it must have been written somewhere that Arielle Lupin would not sleep this morning, for as soon as she went to her room, she heard the unmistakable sound of an owl, that was tapping at the window and hooting indignantly. Arielle quickly scanned the letter and groaned. Her father was in Normandy for some emergency, her brother was in London, her uncle and Cane were there too and she did not want to force this on Vivienne and Dominic. Merlin knew that they had had their fair share of trouble raising their own children. It just wouldn't do to foist their grandson on them, too. She had no choice but rush to St. Lazarre's.

It was still early and there was little movement in the magical hospital. The few Healers on duty smiled at her and she returned the smiles – she had known some of them since childhood. Besides, they had saved her life here four years ago. "What happened?" she asked, when she saw one of the elderly specialists.

"He raised such an uproar that we are ready to let him leave right now. I am glad you came, because you can sign the papers and take him."

"But he is not well yet. Is it..."

"Arielle," the old man interrupted, "this boy is unwilling to stay here even a minute longer than the period that is absolutely needed for his recovery. We are done with his treatment. We wanted to keep him here for two more weeks, just to watch over him, but it is clear that he wants to leave as soon as possible. I cannot have our other patients being permanently disturbed by his yelling or breaking things. You can watch over him in your home and you can always Firecall us if something happens, but he leaves right now."

So, the little devil had held his ground_. To think that there are still people who call him helpless_, Arielle thought, torn between amusement and irritation. _If he keeps going like this, he'll find his place in life sooner than any of us._

"So?" she said questioningly, when she entered the room.

At the sound of her voice, the thirteen year-old's head turned sharply and his face broke into a wide smile. "You've come to my rescue, haven't you?"

"Wipe that smile off your face, kid," she growled, "you've been warned not to do silly things."

His smile did not waver. Arielle realized that he could hear in her voice that she was not really angry and shook her head helplessly. "Come on," she said, "we've got lots of things to do."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same evening..._

The Order meeting had yet to start, so everyone was surprised by the fact that Professor McGonagall appeared almost two hours earlier. She wore the air of some secretiveness that Fred and George immediately caught and so, all inhabitants of the house soon gathered at the freshly cleaned living room to see what was going on. The elderly Professor looked straight at Sirius. "I've brought you something."

"A present?" he asked excitedly. When it came to presents, Sirius was excited like a child. He looked at the small item she had placed on the floor next to him. With a tap of her wand, it began to grow until he saw….

"Angela!"

"What?" Cane asked, while the others looked confused.

"That's Angela," Sirius explained. "My motorbike." And there it was, red and shining, looking just like the night he had lent it to Hagrid.

"You named your motorbike _Angela_?" Cane asked incredulously.

"He bought it in our seventh year when he was trying to win points with a certain Ravenclaw classmate of ours," Remus explained.

"Go to hell, Moony," Sirius muttered.

Cane laughed. " And did it work?"

Sirius didn't answer. "Go ahead, Padfoot, tell them," Remus encouraged him.

Sirius remained stubbornly silent.

"I know the story too, and if you don't tell them what happened later, I will."

"You are no friend of mine, Remus," Sirius grumbled. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you," he said to the others. "It worked. In fact, it worked so well that Angela decided she should have the right to drive the motorbike whenever she wanted. More often than me. She said that it was her right because it was named after her."

Cane burst out laughing, then suddenly stopped. "I remember this," he said quietly, raising his hand. "Mum loved it," he continued, stroking the red bumper. "She liked riding it. Sometimes you took me on it, and the three of us went flying, right?" His eyes searched for Sirius'.

He nodded. "Yes," he barely managed to say.

"I remember," Cane repeated slowly, his eyes glazing over, as if he was trying to make the memory more real, more alive. Then, he suddenly reached towards the small space under the back seat and opened the lid of the box there. From the inside, he took out lipstick and a hairbrush that Sirius recognized immediately.

"Give them to me," he said, and when Cane did so, he opened the lipstick. He had forgotten that Angela used to keep things of great importance to her in the box that they had charmed to accommodate everything they put in. He pulled a few hairs out of the hairbrush and remembered the mass of curly black hair that fell to the small of her back. He had always loved to comb her hair, which was ever so soft and shining.

Sirius was so submerged in his memories that he barely heard a female voice asking, "_Is zat your muzzer?"_

"Yes," Cane answered and Sirius looked at him, suddenly alarmed. Cane was showing Fleur Delacour – Sirius had missed her arrival – some picture and Sirius craned his neck to see what it was. A moment later, Cane gave it to him.

Angela. Angela riding his flying motorbike – their flying motorbike. Her hair was waving madly around her flushed face, and she was grinning widely. She looked so young. So full of life and joy_. How did it happen? How did I let it happen to you, Angela? _

Fleur handed him the next one. This one was of Angela and him flying on the bike. While he was watching, the young Sirius turned round and planted a quick kiss on Angela's lips, and she swatted his head away, mouthing some rebuke about him not watching the path, but she was laughing.

The next one caused him even greater pain. It was a big close-up that had been taken in a Muggle zoo, or at least it seemed so because the two people in it were standing in front of the monkey enclosure. Sirius had picked Cane up and the boy had his arms linked around his father's neck, holding Sirius' face as close as possible to his. They were both grinning at the camera. Sirius stared at it for a long time, silently wondering how everything could have messed up so badly. Angela was dead. And Cane looked at him with calm, cold eyes. Sirius held no illusion that the boy liked him. He was sure that Cane was being decent just because Remus had made him to.

"There is a book in here," Cane said, turning to the box again. "But...I can't read it. Is it blank?"

Sirius had recovered from the shock of seeing the old picture and looked at the object in Cane's hand. "Not blank; it's been charmed. It's your mother's diary."

"Really?" Cane smiled. "And what might be written in there that needs such secrecy?" he grumbled after four attempts to undo the charm.

Sirius reached for the book. "Let me try; maybe I'll hit the right password. No, don't try any charms; it's not going to work. She was pretty good in Charms. No, what we need is the password. Let me think...no, it's too easy...yes, I think I did it."

He tapped the book with his wand and muttered some words under his breath, then almost fell out of his chair as a female voice suddenly filled the room. "Sirius Black, how dare you read other people's diaries!"

_It's her! _

"Who was that?" Fred Weasley asked.

Cane snickered. "I think my mother isn't too pleased with Sirius reading her diary."

"Blimey, she was good," Sirius breathed reverently.

"I know it's you," Angela's voice continued talking. "No one else would come with this password. If somebody is interested in how I achieved that spell, tell them that I've just found a way to modify the spell for Howlers."

"Good work," McGonagall muttered. "But Miss Peters was always a smart girl."

After waiting for a moment, just to be sure that Angela had had her final say, Sirius leafed through the pages and one particular date attracted his attention. October 30, 1981.

He did not actually want to read what this day had been like for Angela. Still, he could not make his eyes leave the page until he heard Harry's muttering, "I don't like it. Not at all..." and realized that something very unusual was happening right in front of him and that Harry had seen it, too.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"It's just like Riddle's diary...falling into it and seeing all that has been described there for yourself..."

But Harry himself knew it was not the same. It was not like looking in a Pensieve, either. In fact, it resembled the way one watched a Muggle movie – something happening right in front of you, but you are not a part of it.

Angela Black, her face tired but tensed in cautiousness, was standing in the middle of a room with red furniture, her eyes never leaving the man with thin blond hair who was sitting in a chair in front of her. _Wormtail_, Harry recognized him and wished that he had let his godfather and Remus just kill him.

"So, when is Sirius coming back?" Peter asked.

"I don't know." The young woman's voice was clearly hostile. "Why do you want to know?"

Peter shrugged. "I was just asking."

"So you can report to your master the minute you leave my flat, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Angela."

"Oh, I think you know."

They were both looking at each other now, with deep antipathy.

"Don't play daft with me, Peter. I know very well where your loyalties lie. You knew that Sirius wasn't here, so why did you come? To try and learn some information from me, am I right? I'm sorry, but I have to inform you that I'd never give any piece of information to you or your so-called Lord, not even an instruction how to reach the Trafalgar Square."

"You are mad."

She laughed mirthlessly. "You wish I was. But you are a smart one, Peter. Smarter than any of us ever gave you credit for," she added thoughtfully. "It's so easy to manipulate people who trust you, am I right? James and Sirius were no problem for you. War does strange things to people. It pulls all old prejudices on the surface, and you used that. How very smart of you."

"You are insulting me!"

"Am I? You are the one who is insulting my intelligence by denying what I know for certain. Oh, you were very clever, really. After all, Sirius is still a Black. Despite his desire to deny any connection to them, the remnants of their education are still there, inside of him, the conviction that the Dark Creatures cannot be trusted. I live with Sirius, and I can say that it must have taken you a lot of time to lead him into looking at Remus like a Dark Creature, but you finally did it. James must have been harder. His family doesn't share all those prejudices. Besides, James loves Remus. I suppose that you have played the family string there. Oh, James, I'm not saying that Remus is the one, but can you take any risks with Lily and Harry's safety? Yes, I think you've said things like that to him and gradually made him vulnerable for your further insinuations. And let's be honest, Remus is a Dark Creature and I think that deep inside, that was one of the reasons that made them suspect hi. You used that too, didn't you? But you made a mistake, Peter. You made a very serious mistake when you tried to hint those things about Remus in my presence. I am not Sirius. I am not James. I realized you were the one at this very moment. I know who you are, Peter, and I will deal with you myself. Who knows, maybe I will be the one to prove to the Order what a traitor you really are. Maybe I will be allowed to take part in your arrest. And you know what? I'll enjoy it. I'll enjoy every minute of it because of all that you've done to Sirius and Remus. And to me. I suppose that you were the one who sent the Death Eaters to attack this flat."

Peter stood up. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you insult me. I'm leaving."

"So early?" She raised an eyebrow, a gesture assimilated by one Sirius Black. "Look around, Peter, we are all alone. Why do you keep pretending? Afraid that I'm going to tell Sirius? But I'm going to tell him anyway."

"There is nothing to tell him. You are just mad."

"Really?" She smiled slowly. "Show me your arm," she ordered. "The left one."

He readily obeyed and lifted his sleeve to show his pale clean skin with no mark on it. He's hidden it under a Concealment Charm, Sirius realized. Angela didn't look worried, though. She pointed her wand at him and said, "_Revelario_!"

For a moment, Sirius thought that something would happen, that maybe she had found a way to make the Concealment Charm disappear, but no, the traitor's skin remained pale and smooth.

Despite that, Angela smiled triumphantly. "That was it, Peter. Now I know for sure that you are a Death Eater. Not that I ever doubted it, but now I have a proof."

Noticing his blank look, she explained, "It's a new spell that I created only a few days ago. I've been searching for someone to try it on. It shows me whether a Concealment Charm has been cast or not. I felt there was something hidden on your arm, Peter. Three guesses what it is?"

"Do you really think that someone is going to believe this stuff? You've just created a new spell, right? Like it is that easy."

Angela laughed. "I'll show the spell to Sirius and Dumbledore, to the Order, and to anyone who might be interested. They will test it and finally believe me. And that, Peter, will be the end of you."

"You need to have your head examined."

With those words, Peter left. The room and Angela slowly began fading. "No, stay!" Sirius almost said. "Don't leave, not yet."

McGonagall was the first one to speak. "So she succeeded in creating a Revealing Charm? Astonishing. The most powerful wizards have been trying to do it for more than three centuries, and the only one who managed it was a girl at twenty-two."

"Angela was very clever," Remus reminded her.

"True, but that invention would have saved us a lot of troubles during the First War if she had really given it to us. Sirius, did you know about that?"

He nodded. "Yes, but I've forgotten all about it. I've never done it anyway. When I came back later that evening, she told me about her brief encounter with Peter and the new spell. I got frightened, mostly because she had let Peter leave. You see, I still hadn't told her that he was the Secret Keeper. She thought that James and Lily were safe with their secret in my possession, so she let Peter leave the flat. I realized that if she was right, he wouldn't take the risk of being arrested and exposed as a traitor. He would have to act as soon as possible. I grabbed the diary from Angela's hands – hoped that there would be some details about the spell in there – and hurried to Peter's place. You all know what happened next."

"Why didn't she give the spell to the Order afterwards?" Fred wondered.

"Because it was proven defected," Remus answered. "Because the traitor was Sirius. He was _proven_ a traitor. Angela thought that she had done something wrong, so the spell indicating that something was hidden on Peter's left forearm was really revealing nothing. She felt guilty for accusing Peter. Can you believe this? We both felt guilty for suspecting him."

Sirius almost laughed, and that warned him that his nerves were very tense.

Arielle Lupin chose that exact moment to enter the living room, holding the hand of a dark-haired boy. He seemed to be thirteen or fourteen years old and a big part if his face was hidden under sunglasses.

Remus took a deep breath and Cane shot a furious glance at the boy, who did not seem impressed at all. "What is he doing here?" he hissed at Arielle.

"It's a long story," she sighed. "All in all, he got himself kicked out of St. Lazarre's. Come on," she told the boy, "let's have a seat."

When she led him through the room, everyone understood something that must have become clear from the very beginning: the boy was blind. The walking stick in his right hand and the way Arielle evaded all kind of furniture left no doubt.

She led him to an empty sofa and waited, until he had taken a seat, before looking at the others.

"This is my sister," Arion introduced her. "Arielle. And this is Julian."

"Does he have a family name?" Harry asked, while both he and Ron looked at the blind boy with great curiosity.

"As a matter of fact, he does." Cane's voice was cold. "Julian Black," he said calmly, enjoying the chilling effect that his words had on Harry – he deserved the unpleasant surprise. Didn't he feel how rude he was being, staring at Julian as if he was some kind of strange animal? Obviously not.

"That's impossible," Sirius said.

Cane turned his eyes to him – two pools of cold anger. "Why should it be impossible? I didn't think that my mother's pregnancy was a memory that would be so nice that the Dementors would want to take it from you," he said.

Molly Weasley took that as a sign to leave, driving her children, as well as Harry and Hermione, in front of her. Arion made a movement as if to follow them, but Cane stopped him. "Stay," he said.

Arion looked at Sirius, who shrugged. "Stay," he said indifferently. "Both of you. I suspect that you know more about this than I do."

Arion and Arielle looked at each other and stayed where they were.

"When is your birthday?" Sirius asked the boy, who had not spoken a word.

"14th December."

14th December. Sirius quickly calculated. That meant that the kid had been born almost three months prematurely. No wonder that he had such a problem. Sirius knew for sure that the affliction was congenital – the Healer at St. Mungo had once warned them that the baby had no chance to be born healthy, not after his mother had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. He could feel Cane's eyes on him – dark, cool, unforgiving. Now, Sirius realized that forgiveness and trust would be impossible to be established between the two of them, for each time Cane looked at his brother, he would be reminded of how Sirius had failed them all.

"I'm sorry," he said simply to the blind boy.

Julian smiled and shook his head. "Don't be," he said. "I am not. For anything"

With a startle, Sirius realized that Julian was completely honest. He really wasn't sorry. What a strange child. _My child_, Sirius thought with sudden anger. _Why wasn't I told?_ He looked at Remus and his friend sighed. "I didn't think you were ready, Sirius. I knew that his condition would be a great shock for you. It certainly was for me. And besides, I thought I had time to tell you. He was supposed to be at St. Lazarre's," he ended with a voice that made Julian squirm uncomfortably on his seat. "What happened, Julian?" he asked softly, but Julian did not seem reassured. Of course, he knew that he wouldn't get away with his glorious leave from the magical hospital just like that, so he had the right to be nervous.

"I, err… Listen, Dad…"

"I am listening," Remus encouraged him, but Julian failed to find the right words to justify his actions. Until now, all his thoughts had been concentrated on finding a way to flee from St. Lazarre's and he had told himself that he would think of some excuse, when it came to this. Well, it had come to this, but he still had no idea what to say, so he wisely kept silent.

The silence lingered. Sirius nervously glanced around the room just in time to see Arielle, who was quickly putting her brother's cup of tea, the cup with the silver edge, back on the table. By the way she acted, everyone would think that the cup was just hot, but something in her manner told Sirius just what he was witnessing. He had seen this gesture many times before, at Hogwarts, when Remus had taken various silver items, handed to him by unsuspecting students, and had not dared react to the pain. His expression did not change, but a few minutes later, he took a furtive glance at the girl's lips. He realized that she probably hadn't actually taken a sip, but even so, the red marks of laceration and inflammation left no room for doubt_. Merlin, how many other things are there that I have no idea about?_

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	10. A Confrontation

**Disclaimer: Same as the previous one, and the one before that...**

_Thanks to all reviewers of this story – both old and new ones._

**Chapter 10**

**A Confrontation**

**Two days later…**

"Then Sirius began dragging me though the tunnel, and when we reached the Shrieking Shack, he transformed, so I saw who he was. I freaked out! He came nearer, and I thought 'Merlin, that was it, he's going to kill me right now but instead he helped me lie on the floor, and in less than a minute Harry and Hermione burst into the room–"

"The story of Sirius Black's first public appearance again, huh?" asked an amused voice.

None of them had heard Cane's entering, except for maybe Julian – for the two days they had spent with him, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys had already realized that the boy had very, very keen senses of hearing and smelling. Even so, he had not interrupted Ron's story.

"Shut up, Black. Some of us haven't heard it," Arion said.

"Yes, you did. You heard it from Remus a year ago."

"So did you. I suppose you haven't asked Harry and Ron about it?" Arielle raised her eyebrows.

"He did that only two times," Fred whispered to Julian. Cane, however, did not dignify Arielle's question with an answer, and Ron continued his story – concealing the comments that he and his friends had made about their discovery of Professor Lupin's lycanthropy, – and then Harry and Hermione added the events that happened after their awakening at the infirmary.

"Time-Turner?" laughed Arielle. "Oh, that's great! I don't like Time-Turners very much but yours seems to have done an excellent job!"

Ron pricked up his ears. "Have you traveled with one?" he asked enviously; he still had not put up with the fact that Harry and Hermione had both used a Time-Turner while he has been lying unconscious in the infirmary. It wasn't fair!

The girl shook her head. "No, I haven't, but last year Arion used one to go to lectures in nineteen subjects."

"Just like Hermione!" Harry said, and his friend glared at him.

"Yes, you first told me the story, I thought the same," Cane confirmed. "But since I am three years older and experienced than the two of you – " He looked at Harry and Ron, " – let me give you a friendly advice. _Do not let Hermione use a Time-Turner in your final year_!"

"Was it that bad?" Ginny asked curiously.

"No," Arion answered.

"Yes!" Cane, Arielle and Julian answered at the same time, and the word 'Yes' appeared on Morgaine's parchment.

"Our Head Boy here was on the verge of a nervous collapse," Cane continued for all of them.

"I was not," Arion snapped.

"We were the people you threw your bad mood upon, oh dear twin of mine," Arielle said brightly, "so let us know better. He drove us mad," she added for the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione.

"Great. What's that, pick on Arion day?" the boy muttered. "I wasn't that insufferable."

"Yes, you were," Cane said. "Even Fleur thinks so."

"Fleur wasn't there last year."

"And what of that?" Cane smirked and for a moment, his features melted away and reformed almost instantly.

Arion shook his head. "Nothing," he conceded. "Whatever you've told her, I don't want to know it."

"She is coming," Julian said suddenly. "I hear footsteps."

"Mum?" Fred asked and practically threw himself at the window and began shaking the curtain. The others followed his example and looked around for something that they could pretend to be cleaning. After all, Mrs Weasley had left them with the explicit order to clean the smaller living room, instead of talking.

Julian waited for a few seconds before saying slowly, "Actually, I meant Professor McGonagall."

"Julian? How could you?..." Cane exclaimed dramatically while the Weasley twins laughed aloud.

Suddenly, Arielle smiled. "Alright," she said, "I'll just take the opportunity to make a little incantation to her."

"An incantation to McGonagall?", Ron whispered, and George whistled. "Merlin, she must be really brave–"

"You mean stupid," Arion corrected him. "Don't do it, Arielle," he warned his sister.

"Why not?" Cane asked indignantly. Arion only sighed.

"She's gone," Julian said. "She went down the corridor."

"Oh," Arielle said, disappointed. "Well, I suppose we could clean this room a bit."

"Yes, of course," Hermione supported her, and in a couple of minutes everything had gone grey from the flying dust.

"Has Kreacher ever cleaned this house?" Arielle muttered. "Or has he spent the last – how much? – the last four years doing nothing?"

Hermione bristled up. "He's quite old and he's not all there!" she snapped angrily.

"Do you think so?" Arielle snapped. She had already been acquainted first hand with Kreacher's contempt of half-breeds. " He knows very well what he's doing."

"He surely does," Fred agreed, and Cane nodded.

"He's just – well, he went a little too far, but that's what his masters had taught him. He–"

"A little too far?" Arielle snapped, interrupting Hermione. "Let me tell you something, Miss Know-it-all: wait until _you_ become a werewolf with a silver burn on your hand before talking about 'a little too far'. You aren't qualified enough!" Sadly enough, it was true. The old house-elf, who, like everyone of his kind, had the ability to recognize an unhuman, when he saw one, had seen to giving her a silver fork at dinner last night. The result was that now everyone knew what Arielle Lupin was. Cane had been so furious that Remus had barely stopped him from killing Kreacher.

Arielle pulled the curtain she was trying to clean of the dust with more strength than necessary, and practically pulled it from the wall.

"Hey, what's that?" Ron exclaimed. "It looks like a trap-door!"

"What might be there behind it?" Arion wondered aloud.

Arielle pointed her wand at the trap-door, said, "_Alohomora_", and then almost shrieked when she saw a pair of blue eyes that were blinking at her. Their owner blinked again, then the eyes snapped open and a roar filled the room. Arielle quickly took a step backwards.

"Is that– is that a _lion_?" Ron asked.

"No, ickle Ronnikins, it's a small nice kitten," Fred answered, very sarcastically. "Of course it's a bloody lion! Who the hell would have wanted to have a portrait of a lion on his wall?"

"One of the especially mad Blacks, no doubt," Cane supplied. "Merlin, no wonder they've hidden this picture so carefully."

"Excuse me, Sir," Hermione interrupted them in a slightly shaking voice, "but do you think you could wake up and calm your lion?"

Everyone in the room looked at her if she were mad, but she nodded at the portrait and now they saw the man sleeping in the corner.

"What kind of a madman would have accepted to be drawn next to an enormous malicious lion?" George asked aloud.

"Only a madman," Ginny muttered.

"It's not a lion," Julian said calmly.

"What?" Ron asked. "How d'you know?"

"He's an Animagus," the blind boy confirmed, "and he's having a pretty good laugh over our panic."

The others looked at the portrait instinctively, just at the moment when the lion disappeared, replaced by a tall man with a light brown hair and beard and blue eyes that were shining excitedly. "How did you do that?" he exclaimed. "Can you do it again?"

Julian shrugged. "Yes, if you turn into the lion again, I suppose I could."

"But not if I stay human?"

"Well, I can try but I doubt I can manage it."

"Try it."

Now all eyes in the room were turned to Julian, who, of course, could not see them. His face tensed and his lips tightened but nothing happened, then suddenly he exclaimed, "He did transform again, right?"

The others looked at the picture again and really, there was not the fair-haired man but the lion who even winked – _winked_ – at them, before returning to human shape.

"How is it possible?" Hermione asked. "The portraits aren't supposed to keep the Animagus' abilities to the people who are pictured inside."

"They aren't, my Lady," the man confirmed, "but this portrait is quite extraordinary. Now you, boy – what's your name?"

"Julian. Julian Black."

"Alright. Now, Julian Black, tell me how did you do this. Can you do it with other animals or it acts only with lions?'

"All animals," the boy answered.

The man looked thrilled beyond comparison. "You can talk to animals in your mind?"

"He does," Cane answered instead of his brother. "He's been doing it since he was a toddler."

"You can talk to animals?" Ron asked, excited.

"And Animagi when they are in their animal form, as we already know," Arion defined the issue more precisely.

The wizard in the picture grinned. "Rowena will be thrilled to meet you, Julian Black," he said, and turned to look further in the picture. "Oh, she isn't here. Never mind. Helga, Salazar, wake up! Wake up! You won't believe what I found!"

The sleeping man stirred in his place near the frame, revealing a woman lying behind him, also asleep. He opened his eyes and rubbed them. "So, somebody finally has found the portrait," he stated calmly. "Why are you yelling again, Godric?"

"Look what I found!"

The other did. "You've found lots of children, right?"

"No! The boy with glasses can talk to animals!"

"Oh please."

"No, really, he can, I swear!"

The other man stood up and looked at Godric with annoyance. "Somebody has fooled you into believing this, mate. Really, Rowena has tried to prove the existence of people with such a gift her whole life and failed. No one can talk to animals."

"He can."

"Are the two of you arguing again?" The blond woman in the picture had finally woken, and was looking at them with reproachful blue eyes. "Really, one could think that you'll be happy for being found after three hundred years hidden behind that curtain but no, the first thing you do is arguing." She looked at the children, and smiled. "Thank you for finding us," she said. "I'm Helga Hufflepuff and those two who are trying to kill each other are Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. Don't mind them," she added, hearing a ringing of swords behind her back, "they can't do anything because we are all dead already. Would you mind introducing yourselves now?" she asked.

"I don't believe it!" Fred whistled. "We've met the Founders! The Founders of Hogwarts!"

Helga smiled. "Why, I think it's the first time I've ever seen you speechless, Mr Weasley."

He gaped at her. "You– you know me? How?"

She winked at him and instead of a royal lady with stunning beauty, she suddenly looked more like a mischievous kid. "We all have portraits at Hogwarts, too," she explained. "The students just don't know it's us. Mine is on the wall near the kitchens, Godric's is on the way for the Gryffindor Tower and Rowena – where's Rowena, by the way?"

"I suppose she's still at Hogwarts," Salazar answered. "She thinks that something is happening there. Do you remember, she was in her portrait there at the end of the school year when the Ravenclaw students looked very disturbed? She thinks that there is something awful happening at the school. Is that so?"

Arion was the first one to realize that Slytherin was looking straight at them. "I'll tell you if you tell me why this picture was hidden."

Salazar looked at him with more attention, and then suddenly laughed. "Godric, is it only me, or do you also think that the boy is _blackmailing_ us?"

"I'd rather call it a fair deal," Arion said calmly.

"Oh, I like you already!" Salazar exclaimed heartily. "Blackmailing the Founders of Hogwarts! Tell me, you are in Slytherin, aren't you? though I haven't seen you until now. Am I right?"

"No."

"No?" Salazar was disappointed. "Don't tell me you are in Gryffindor. You aren't, are you?"

"You are, aren't you?" Godric interjected.

"Boys," Helga said firmly, "let's deal with the boy's– what's your name, actually?"

"Arion. Arion Lupin."

"Nice name. However, let's deal with the interesting issue of Arion's Sorting later, because right now, we have other things to do. To answer your question, Arion, we were hidden because three hundred years ago one of the masters of the house wanted to remove the three of us from the picture, leaving Salazar only. When he didn't succeed, he hid the picture because he didn't want to be constantly reminded of his failure."

"Oh."

"Now, it's your turn. What are all of you doing here? What's going on?"

"This house was made a Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Arion said. "We are–"

"We know what the Order of the Phoenix does!" Godric interrupted him, exchanging worried looks with his fellow Founders. "Or at least, what it used to do. Are you telling me that Lord Voldemort –?"

"He's back," Harry said, feeling suddenly tired. "I saw him regaining his body."

Helga gasped with horror. Without bothering to look at her direction, Godric took her hand and gave it a brief squeeze.

"You saw it?" Salazar slowly repeated and his gaze flew at Harry's scar. "Are you the one who once defeated him?"

"Yes, I was the one who thrice defeated your Heir and will do it for a fourth time, given the chance," Harry said, looking defiantly at the person who was responsible for the beginning of all this pureblood madness.

Salazar Slytherin only nodded. "Try harder this time, please," he said, "and do it once and for all."

Now everyone at the room stared at him and that seemed to annoy him. "What?" he asked irritably.

"Do you _want_ me to defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course I do," Salazar answered, looking angry. "Why does everyone seem to think that Voldemort's ludicrous ideas for creating a world inhabited by purebloods only, are _mine_, too? Well, they are not and they never will be."

"The whole pureblood mania comes from you!" Ron reminded him.

"Yes, the idea that Muggles should not be taught magic. Not the idea that they should be _killed_! The idea of some madman who thinks he is something like god and who contaminates _my_ ideals to justify his actions disgust me no less than it does you, boy."

"Yes, yes, Salazar, we all know that," Godric said impatiently. "Now, if you please, can we go back to what is important – _the news that this disgrace to humankind is back_?"

"I think so," Salazar sighed. "So, you know who we are and we know the Weasleys, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Arion Lupin. Would the others introduce themselves?"

"Well, that is the beautiful lady who found us," Godric began, "but I don't know her name yet."

"Arielle Lupin."

"I'm enchanted, my Lady," Godric bowed, and she blinked.

Helga laughed quietly. "Don't bother, my child, Godric has always had a particular liking to redheads."

"Says the woman who likes only tall dark savages, the more dangerous they are, the more she fancies them," Godric muttered.

Helga blushed furiously. "I do no such thing!" she hissed.

"Yes, you do," Salazar and Godric answered simultaneously.

"Honestly, you two!" Helga huffed. "I ignore you. So, who are you three? What's your name, boy? Yes, you, with the sunglasses."

"Julian Black."

"Black!" she exclaimed. "Are you Sirius Black's son?"

"Well, yes."

"So your mother must be Angela Peters!" Salazar said, interested.

"Yes, it was her."

"I can say that much," Salazar said, looking at him with great interest. "You look just like her. Yes, yes, you've got the same hair and skin. Are you bright like her?"

"I don't know. You think she was bright?"

"Oh, she was the brightest witch ever entered Hogwarts, as well as the prettiest!"

Godric groaned. "Oh no, not again! Honestly, Salazar, are you _ever_ going to get rid of your infatuation with that girl? Yes, I admit that she was pretty but that's too much. You're five hundred years her senior and _you're a portrait on a wall_!"

The twins' eyes had reached the size of saucers. "_Salazar Slytherin has a crush on your mother?_" Fred whispered to Cane.

"Who has a crush on whom else?" Sirius asked brightly, entering the room.

"Salazar Slytherin," George answered, pointing at the picture. "On your wife, as it seems."

Sirius blinked. The twins who had expected a great explosion, were disappointed, when he only muttered, "Well, that makes nine and a half."

"Nine and a half what?" Harry asked, amused.

"Guys liking Angela," Sirius explained. "At least nine and a half that I know about."

"Who was the half?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Fang," Sirius answered shortly.

"Fang?" Ron exclaimed. "_Fang_, as in Hagrid's Fang?"

"The very same one."

"But he is a dog!" Hermione gasped.

"And she was a wolf. You see, once she got stuck in her Animagus form and the stupid dog decided that she was a real she-wolf and began drooling all over her – Disgusting!"

"Sirius is jealous!" Fred snickered.

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm – "

The rest of his words were drown in a horrifying sound erupting from behind him. Everybody turned to the direction where it had come from, and they immediately realized who had caused it – Julian has fallen on the carpet, shaking uncontrollably, and after a second, he began to writhe so terribly that his limbs seemed to be trying to rip themselves apart from his body. He continued screaming in a voice that sounded more like an animal howl than a human voice. His sunglasses fell on the ground and for the first time Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys saw his eyes – black eyes with long lashes, just like Sirius' and Cane's, which were now rolling so quickly that they looked like two black blurs in their orbit. There was a thin red streak coming from his mouth but he did not seem to notice that, even when he choked on the blood – he just continued to trash and scream, obviously unable to hear Cane's voice, while his brother was trying to calm him down. Finally, Cane succeeded to seize him but with the next convulsion, Julian broke loose and began writhing on the floor again. The convulsions were so strong that at one moment only Julian's heels and the rips of his fingers touched the carpet.

"Call Dumbledore," Sirius said to Cane sharply and he ran to the door. Sirius caught Julian and held him still, using all his force. "Here," he said, pressing his hand to his son's lips. Without realizing what his was doing, Julian bit it and did not release it. Sirius saw red blurs from the pain but it was better than leaving Julian to bit his own tongue.

"What happened?" Hermione whispered. "Why is he like that?"

"He touched the flask," Arion said with a slightly shaking voice, pointing the black flask that lied next to Julian.

"That's impossible," Harry objected. "I also held it, and I'm fine."

"I saw him touching it, and then he started screaming," Arion insisted. Julian was still writhing, screaming and choking on his own blood.

"What happened?" Albus Dumbledore demanded from the door and entered the room quickly, closely followed by Snape and Cane. Those of the Order members, who had left for dinner after the meeting, had come to see what had happened.

"He touched the flask, Professor Dumbledore, and then he started screaming and writhing," Arion said immediately.

"It looks like the _Cruciatus Curse_ to me,' Dumbledore said calmly, though his eyes were concerned and never leaving the boy's face. "Step aside, Sirius, and leave this matter to us. Severus, please."

"What?" Sirius bellowed. 'You want me to leave my son under _Severus Snape's _ministrations? He's going to kill him, rather than help him!"

"No, you're mistaken. Severus is the only one person present who knows enough about the dark curses and how to counteract them. Step aside, Sirius, let's not lose time."

Very pale, Sirius did step aside, his hand bleeding, and Snape knelt beside the boy, lightly touching his bare arm. Under normal circumstances, the boy probably would not have even felt the touch but now he howled with pain, as if Snape had stabbed him with a dagger. The Potion Master checked his eyes and pulse, touched one of his trashing legs – dragging another terrible scream out of his mouth, – before looking at Dumbledore. "It is certainly the _Cruciatus_," he said, loudly enough to be heard above Julian's screams. "We'll have to examine this flask, but I'd say that either the liquid in it or the flask itself has been charmed to cause pain to any person who touches it."

"That's impossible!" Harry said. "I touched it, and I felt as if I had scratched my arm but it was nothing like that."

"Because you are with normal endurance of the pain, Potter," Snape said icily. "Unfortunately, young Black here has a strong susceptibility to the _Cruciatus_; he was born that way, so the flask here has activated its protection to the final stage. We need to treat him immediately, Albus," he said to the old Headmaster. "I'll need your help. We have to take him to a calm place where we can work more effectively."

"Won't you take him to St. Mungo?" Sirius asked Dumbledore but the Headmaster shook his head.

"We'd better not move him too much for now. Mr Weasley, I assume that you and Mr Potter share a room with Mr Black. Could you lead us there?"

"Yeah."

Ron looked relieved to leave the room. Snape and Dumbledore followed him, the Headmaster carrying the struggling boy in his arms, hurrying past the tearful Mrs Weasley who began to wipe her eyes on her sleeve. One by one, the Order member disappeared downstairs, feeling uncomfortably with being there at that moment. Arion Lupin looked after Dumbledore until he disappeared from view, and then entered the room and headed straight for the flask, which was still lying on the carpet.

"Don't!" Arielle stopped him but he touched the flask very carefully with the tip of his index finger, frowned and picked it with a handkerchief. "We may need to examine it," he explained.

"Did you feel pain touching it?" Cane asked, and Arion nodded. "And what about you, Harry?"

"Yes, I did. I suppose that Snape may be right and this flask may have somehow put Julian under the _Cruciatus_."

"Of course Snape is right, didn't you see Julian?" Cane snapped. "And we know to whom we should be grateful for that, don't we?"

"Do we know?" Harry was surprised.

"Your godfather, your precious Sirius, that's who!"

"What? Are you mad? Sirius did nothing!"

"Exactly," Cane agreed. "He did nothing. To put it more clearly, he did nothing and that's why he did something."

He turned directly to Sirius. "You _do_ know that it is your fault, all of it, don't you?"

"I do," Sirius' voice was very hoarse.

"Good. Because I thought that you might have forgotten the little detail of why exactly Julian is the way he is – you know, while being busy to torment yourself over James and Lily's deaths."

"You thought that I might have forgotten about such a thing?" Sirius exclaimed disbelievingly.

Cane shrugged. "Well, I thought it was a possibility. After all, it's not like you cared that much about him. Or me. Or our mother, for that matter. C'mon, Sirius, let's finally be honest here. The two of us know very well where your true loyalties lie. Oh, all those people downstairs may pity you, for being falsely condemned but they don't know the things that I know, do they? They don't know that you _are_ a traitor."

"He isn't!" Harry said fiercely. "He never betrayed my parents! It was Pettigrew–"

Cane looked at him, as if he had forgotten that Harry was in the room. "I _know_ it was Pettigrew, Potter. Anyway, why are you meddling? It's a conversation between my father and me. Yes, never mind how much you dislike that very idea – and you aren't the only one, believe me, – he _is_ my father, so don't interrupt us anymore. And breathe calmly, I don't want him. You can have your precious godfather all for you because I am not interested and Julian probably even doesn't realize that he has the right to want to be a part of Sirius' life. Therefore, you can have Sirius. We'll keep Remus. And just for your information, I know _too_ fine that Sirius never betrayed your parents, but as much as that might surprise you, I've got news for you: the world does not consist of James and Lily Potter alone. I was talking about another betrayal. A betrayal to Julian, to my mother and Remus. And to me. You don't know why Julian is blind, do you?" Harry was so shocked by the sudden verbal attack that he could only shake his head. "I knew it," Cane went on and smiled darkly at Sirius. "Your godfather had somehow missed to tell you, hadn't he, Harry? Why is that, Sirius? Didn't you think that he would be glad to know just what good friends you were with his father? Or maybe you were a little afraid? Because even you might know that, while always being around poor James and Lily to distract them from their worries of being in hiding, may sound touching, the revelation that you've been there, chatting with them while the Death Eaters were tormenting your wife, your son and your unborn child with the _Cruciatus Curse_, causing the aforementioned child to be born blind and very vulnerable to the later use of the _Cruciatus_, sounds _disgusting_?" Cane sneered. "You do know that we were in St. Mungo for a whole day before you came home from the Potters' house and heard what had happened to us, don't you? My mother might have died from the blood loss, combined with the effects of the curse – she almost did! But what did it matter when James and Lily felt depressed? Of course, you had to be there for them to entertain them! I suppose that it must have been a really great friendship, to make you ignore the fact that you had a pregnant wife and a child at home who might at any time be visited by the Death Eaters!"

Sirius' face had become ashen but somehow, he succeeded not to shout back. "Shut up!" he said in a deadly calm voice.

Cane laughed aloud. "Oh, that shows how much you know about me, _Dad_!" he mocked. "If you had chosen to be a little less loyal to the Potters and a little more loyal to us – Julian, Mum, and me, – you would have known that no one can make me shut up when I don't want to. I've taken that bad trait from both my mother and you. Why do you think is it that neither Arielle nor Arion are trying to make me stop? Because they know that it would only make it worse. But _you_ have no way of knowing this, right? You know nothing about me, about all of us! What are you all looking at?" he suddenly snapped at the others. "Easy, there won't be any murder here today."

Hermione suddenly realized that the only person, who could stop Cane, was not present in the room. "Where is Lupin?" she whispered to George.

"He left early in the morning," was the muffled answer, and the girl resigned that there was no one who could make the scene in front of them less ugly.

"You know that I'm right, that's why you want me to shut up, isn't it, _Dad_? Because you know very well that you didn't show any loyalty to Mum, Julian, or me, or Remus, least of all him – the Dark Creature who was betraying James and Lily. Tell me, Sirius, have you ever felt bad because of what you did to him with your suspicions?"

"I don't expect of you to believe it, but I'll never forgive myself for those suspicions."

"You're right," Cane replied coldly, "I really don't believe it. Do you know what I think, Sirius? I think that in your whole life you've been truly loyal to only one person – James Potter. Even after you had a family of your own, even after the Death Eaters attacked us and you realized that Mum was pregnant again, with a child who will need special care – the same child who is suffering from the effects of the _Cruciatus_ right now, in case that you haven't noticed. And _that_," he hissed in a surprisingly calm and cold voice, "is what makes you a traitor."

Sirius' hand cut the air and Cane made no move to evade the strike that left an enormous red mark on his cheek. The boy did not even flinch.

"How dare you?" Sirius roared, infuriated. "I would have died for you – all three of you!"

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Cane answered coldly. "You see, the matter is that we didn't need someone to die for us – we needed someone to _live_ for us, take care of us, to _be_ there. During the last year, you did none of those things because you lavished all your attention and care on James and Lily. My mother was left to deal with everything alone, pregnant."

"I didn't know that she was pregnant!"

At first, Cane looked at him with disbelief but then laughed darkly. "You really didn't know? Do you think that you will get away with _that_ excuse? She was pregnant in the fifth month and you _haven't noticed at all_? Great attention you must have paid her, no doubt."

"You don't understand. It wasn't like that." Sirius' voice had become low, with a hint of desperation in it. "Just hear me out."

"And hear what, Sirius? Your explanation why you treated us like the furniture in the flat? Telling me to wait just a little while when I wanted you to play with me but you never came? Or using my mother as a wall to talk to about how hard it must be for James and Lily? Oh, you're wondering how I know that, 'cause I was really young back then. Well, I remember because I was miserable. Because someone has stolen my dad and replaced him with a stranger who came in the flat only to eat, sleep, worry over the Potters, and yell at Mum for being such a fool to stay in touch with the traitor – Remus, I mean. Oh, I remember. And what is worse, even after we were so badly injured and needed you to be there for us, you still placed James, Lily and Harry first and switched places with Peter, putting yourself in danger and leaving us alone if something happened to you, and didn't trust Mum enough to tell her. You chose to die for the Potters, instead of live for us, and now you wanted to explain to me? Sorry, but you're fourteen years late. I have no desire to listen to you."

"Cane, stop," Remus said quietly from the door. "You've said more than enough."

'Oh, really?" Cane bellowed, angry at Remus at that moment, too. "Feeling sorry for your friend, don't you, Remus? It's only that he isn't your friend, not actually. He's just a cynical bastard who never cared about anyone else but James Potter – not me and Julian, not our mother and certainly not you – if you could only hear what he used to say about you to Mum! I mean, really! Do you have to be _always_ so bloody forgiving and understanding? It's disgusting, it is!"

He stormed out and slammed the door with fury, causing Mrs Black's portrait to start shrieking again.

Remus sighed and rubbed his forehead. "What has happened to make him like that?"

No one even dared to look at him, because no one wanted to deliver the bad news about Julian.

"Well? Who's going to tell me?"

"I will," Arielle sighed.

"Alright, I'll go to Cane," Arion said, and stood up.

"He'll probably slam the door right into your face," Remus warned him, but Arion merely shrugged.

"He might. He's done it before. But then, I'll just wait for a while, and then I'll try again."

He left. Sirius, his face still ashen, looked at Arielle. "Arion seems to be good for him."

Julian's seizure and Cane's obvious hurt and anger had apparently changed Arielle's opinion of Sirius, whom she had liked, because now she gave him a cold glance. "They are good for each other," she said. "Can you honestly say the same about your relationship with anyone else but James?"

––––––––––––––––––––––

**A. N. For those, who want to know more about the Sirius-Angela-Fang accident, I recommend to visit my humor story Padfoot's Rival. For those, who want to know the truth about what happened all those years ago with Sirius, James and Lily, and Angela – go to The Final Choice. Alas, it's not a humo****ur story, but they cannot all be humour.**

19


	11. Calming Down

**Disclaimer: Should I write another one? Nothing has changed. Of ****course, I do not own anything. **

**Thank you, my dear old and new reviewers!**

Chapter 11

Calming Down

A light knock made Sirius look at the door. "Come in," he said hoarsely, changing his position from lying to sitting on the bed.

The door opened and Arion Lupin entered the room. Sirius looked at him, feeling suddenly too afraid to ask anything.

"He's fine," the boy said immediately. "Dumbledore and Snape came out of his room a few minutes ago, and said that he would be fine. He doesn't even need to be moved to St. Mungo's. Uncle is with him now. He's awake and knows what's going on. He'll be a bit off colour for a day or two but he'll be fine at the end."

Sirius sighed and felt like an enormous burden had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you for coming to tell me, I really appreciate it."

Arion smiled lightly. "Of course."

Sirius hesitated slightly but finally asked, "What about Cane? Is he okay?"

Arion shrugged. "He's more composed now, with the news about Julian, of course."

"That wasn't what I asking about."

"I know." It was Arion's turn to sigh. "He's better. He just needed to say those things, no matter how ugly they were. He's been through worse and he always gets better. He's strong."

"What worse?"

Arion blinked.

"You sad he'd been through worse," Sirius supplied. "What did you mean?"

"He's had some... problems," the boy answered reluctantly.

"What kind of problems?"

Arion shook his head firmly. "You have to ask Cane himself about that."

"But he won't tell me anything!"

"Then you won't know anything because I won't tell you, either," Arion said, not coldly, but in a firm voice.

Sirius looked at him and his lips twitched. "Your sister seems to believe everything Cane said about me. Do you believe it, too?"

Arion looked thoughtful. "I neither believe nor not believe it," he finally said. "I have no doubt that you've been neglecting Cane and his mother for a very long time but I don't think it was because you cared more about the Potters. I just think that you have decided that your friends needed you more at first and then you've lost control over things, causing a rift between yourself and Cane, and his mother, and that rift has become deeper and deeper with time, that's all."

Sirius looked at him, astounded. How dared that boy simplify the whole awful year in that way? On the other hand, Arion had a point. All the horrors that had happened had been due to the estrangement between Angela and him. _An estrangement that I was the one to blame_. "Do you blame me, too?" he suddenly asked. He could not say why it was so important to know that. Maybe it was because Arion looked so much like Remus and had a similar temper, or maybe because the boy in front of him was Cane's best friend. Sirius had already seen the influence Arion had on Cane. He suspected that Arion Lupin could turn out to be far more dangerous than his unfailing politeness indicated. Sirius wanted him to be his ally, not an enemy.

"No," Arion answered, and by the expression of his face, Sirius could say that he was not lying.

"Why not? Everyone else does."

"If you mean Cane, he has the right to blame you," Arion replied. "No matter the reasons, you still abandoned them."

"I didn't!" Sirius said fiercely. "I would never, ever leave them!"

Arion smiled a crooked, sad smile. "There are many ways to abandon someone, Sirius," he said softly. "Even if you're still there."

"You seem to know a lot about abandonment," Sirius said sharply, and felt ashamed almost instantly. He had already heard about the tragedy that had stricken Arion's family and the fact that he and his siblings lived apart from their mother, but it was very rude to hint about that in such a blatant manner. Besides, he was the adult here. Such childish malice could be forgiven to Arion, but to him?

However, Arion did not try to retaliate with a cruel remark. Instead, he only smiled. "Oh, I can see where Cane's impulsiveness comes from."

"So, what do you think of the whole story?" Sirius insisted.

Arion gave him a thoughtful look. "Why do you care so much?" he asked. "What does it matter?"

Sirius only shrugged. Arion remained silent for a moment. "I think it was too much for you," he finally said. "The war, the whole world gone mad, the Potters in danger – and you weren't much older than we are now – Cane and I, Arielle, Fleur and Charles. I'm trying to imagine myself living in the middle of a war, having a best friend in mortal danger, a wife and a small child, and this very idea frightens me."

The older man almost gasped. How did Arion know? How? No one had ever penetrated the mask of ever-so-confident Sirius Black. No one knew how frightened he really had been by that time – neither then, nor now. He certainly had not expected it from a boy he hardly knew. Raymond Lupin's son, of all people. Remus' brother had never bothered to pretend that he liked Sirius. No, that was not true. Raymond _had_ liked Sirius at first. Sirius, James, and Peter, they were Remus' friends who did not care about his being a werewolf, and Raymond had liked them for that. He just never got over the whole werewolf prank, the final act of stupidity and carelessness of Sirius' side. _Remus forgave me but Raymond never did._

"I wish for Cane to understand that it was a mistake," he said slowly. "I made too many poor decisions but hurting him or his mother was the last thing I ever wanted. The two of them were the most important thing in my life."

"And yet, you gave your loyalty to the Potters first." There was no accusation in Arion's voice, he was speaking a matter-of-factly. "I can understand that in the very beginning, you thought you could save everyone – the Potters, Cane, and Angela, but even after the Death Eaters attacked them, causing such a severe damage, you chose to take care of James Potter and his family, instead of your own wife and son. You can't expect of Cane to just be okay with it."

"It wasn't like that!" Sirius exclaimed. "It wasn't like that at all! I switched with Peter, because –"

"Stop it, Sirius," Arion said firmly. "I am not the one who needs to hear it. You've got a lot of explaining to do to Cane and not me."

"But I –"

"Stop here. You don't owe me an explanation and, actually, I don't want to hear it right now. I came here because I thought you might want to hear the news for Julian but I have to go back to Cane."

"You are a good friend," Sirius smiled slightly.

"Thank you. I am Cane's friend, which means that I am always on his side."

Sirius gave him a sharp look. "Was that a threat?"

Arion shook his head. "If you treat him properly, then no."

_Why the hell would you think that I won't treat him properly?_ Sirius felt suddenly annoyed. _Does everyone see me as a monster who likes to torture his own child? _Of course,Arion had no reason to think otherwise. He knew only Cane's side of the story_. What does it matter, anyway? He can think whatever he wants and I should not care. He isn't Remus._

"What did he tell you?" Sirius asked. "After he let you come near him."

Arion smiled. "Do you really expect me to give an answer to that?"

"No," Sirius admitted, his previous anger completely gone. "But it was worth a try. You are right: Cane is really fortunate, if you are always on his side."

Arion acknowledged the praise with a nod and left. Sirius was left alone with his demons.

A dark-haired boy, screaming and wriggling on the floor, Snape kneeling in front of him, and the sound of breaking glass under his shoes – no, not glass. Glasses. Dark sunglasses.

"_You chose to die for the Potters, instead of living for us."_

"_You still placed James, Lily, and Harry first, and left us alone if something happened to you, although you knew that Mum was pregnant again, with a child that would need special care."_

"_I thought you might have forgotten the little detail of why exactly Julian is the way he is – it's not like you cared that much about him. Or me. Or our mother, for that matter."_

Sirius took a deep breath. _Stop it, _he told himself firmly. _Julian is fine._

"Oh, really? And how long would that last?" a tiny voice in his head that sounded very much like Cane's, asked. "Until his next meeting with the _Cruciatus Curse_? It's all your fault, you know. You should have been there, with us, instead of always hanging out with the Potters. Maybe you would have been able to help him – help her before they hit her with the curse."

_More likely, I would have been unable to protect her. I heard that there __had been too many of them. I wouldn't have been able to do anything."_

"We'll never know for sure, won't we?" the tiny voice – Cane's voice – continued mercilessly. "Because you weren't there. No, you were busy helping James and Lily feel less depressed."

Sirius changed forms and sprawled on the carpet, laying his head on his front paws, blocking the world and the voice.

Things were easier as a dog.

Remus came in maybe an hour later and scratched Padfoot behind his ears. "Hello," he said softly.

Under normal circumstances, Padfoot would have melted for that. Now, he let himself enjoy the pleasant sensation only for a brief moment, before changing back. "How–?"

"He's fine, Sirius," Remus answered immediately and Sirius believed him – not the words themselves, but the way Remus sat on his bed and relaxed. His eyes were tired, very tired, but they were calm and smiling. "He is exhausted, of course, but he'll make it."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Julian is a strong boy."

Sirius said nothing. Surely, the boy was strong, to live a life like his, but strong-willed did not necessarily mean physical stamina. For himself, Sirius was sure that he would never forget the sight of Julian wriggling on the floor and the dead eyes rolling uncontrollably.

"Do you want to see him?" Remus asked all of a sudden.

Sirius shook his head. "No," he replied hoarsely.

"Cane isn't there," Remus said. "It was not good for Julian to have too many people around him, so Cane went to his room."

Sirius shook his head again. "No," he repeated.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Padfoot!" Remus exclaimed, slightly irritated. "You don't intend to spend the rest of their stay here hiding in this room, do you?"

Sirius did not respond and after a moment, Remus' face softened. "Don't you want to see how he is?" he asked.

"I do. I just don't think that _he_ would be that pleased to see _me_, that's all." Sirius laughed. "Of course, he cannot _see_ me. Guess whose fault was that? Cane was right. I failed them – all three of them."

"Cane was angry," Remus corrected him. "Julian isn't. Besides, Cane won't be there. His brother doesn't blame you."

Sirius was not so sure, but he silently left the room, trying to move as quietly as possible, to not disturb the other inhabitants of the house. There was a light coming from under Julian's door and Sirius thought that it was silly – after all, it made no difference for the boy. He took a deep breath and forced himself to turn the knob.

During all those hours since Snape and Dumbledore had left the living room with Julian, who seemed to be fighting the nothingness, Sirius had drawn thousand images in his mind, but the sight that greeted him was not like them at all. Julian was lying in his bed, half-supported by pillows. His face had an unnatural shade of red and there was sweat on his brow but otherwise he looked completely fine, entirely different from the trashing boy that Sirius had seen earlier.

"Who's there?" Julian asked in a quiet voice. Sirius did not answer. "Dad? Is that you?"

_Yes_! Again, Sirius said nothing and made a few steps inside but then hesitated.

"Come in, Sirius."

Sirius felt his jaw gaping. "How did you know it was me?"

"Hush! Not that loud!" his son warned hurriedly. Probably he had a headache.

Raymond Lupin was sitting on the other bed – Harry's bed, but Harry and Ron had moved to another room for that night, – reading a book. When he saw Sirius, he stood up.

"It's not good to have too many people in here, so I'll take my leave," he whispered. "But do not make him tired and do not stay too long."

Sirius nodded and Raymond left, whispering good-bye to Julian.

A heavy silence filled the room. Sirius conjured a chair and sat next to Julian's bed. "How are you?" he finally asked.

Julian looked like he was about to shrug, but he only answered, "Fine."

"How do you know it was me?" Sirius asked.

"I smelled you."

"You _smelled_ me?" Sirius asked incredulously, and Julian smiled.

"And I recognized your footsteps."

"You did?"

"I am blind, Sirius, not retarded. When you can't use one of your senses, you make the others work busily to compensate for that loss."

"I meant no offence."

"None taken," the boy answered, and smiled. Sirius held his breath – now, without the usual dark sunglasses that half-hid his face, Julian looked even more like his mother.

"What did they tell you?"

"Oh, the usual – sleep, rest, don't get tired, blah-blah-blah."

Now, Sirius heard the exhaustion in Julian's face and when he looked more carefully, he saw it on the boy's face, too – like a thin layer, almost unnoticeable but impossible to miss when one knew what to look for. There was no sign of the hatred that had disfigured Cane's face mere hours ago. _Julian doesn't blame me_.

"You look tired," Sirius said. "Maybe I should leave so you can have your rest."

Julian sighed. "I think I'll have more than enough rest in the next few days. Dad and Uncle are going to make me stay in bed, and Cane isn't going to move his finger to get me out of it. He's become _responsible_."

The last word was uttered even lower than the previous whisper. Sirius had to smile. "What do you mean, he's become responsible? Isn't he responsible by nature?"

Again, Julian looked like he wanted to shake his head and thought better of it. "No, he became this way since Mum died. Before, he was stupid, and crazy, and genius, and he teased us, and protected us. Dad says that after Morgaine was born, Cane adopted the habit to sleep on the floor in front of her crib to protect her, in case that the monster that lived under the stairs came there in the night to eat her."

Sirius made a great effort to suppress his laughter at the mental image. "Did he?"

"Oh yes, he did. Or so says Dad says. Cane was always so... I don't know. He was a great troublemaker. Aunt Sylvie used to often put the gong in practice because of him."

Sirius blinked. "The gong? What gong? Whose gong?"

"Aunt Sylvie's... she bought it many years ago. We were all staying at their place – Morgaine, Cane and me, and Fleur and Gabrielle too. It must have been during the summer holiday because no one was at school. We were in their villa for a week or maybe a month, I don't know, and we must have been very noisy because Aunt Sylvie said that she couldn't take more of us."

"And how did the gong come into the picture?" Sirius wanted to know.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there. She bought the gong to give us signals with it – one stroke meant that it was time for breakfast, two that we have to go to lunch, three – that we were going to have dinner... and when she rang the gong ceaselessly, it meant that we had landed ourselves in trouble. Because we had been bad. Or because we had done something terrible."

"I see," Sirius answered, and saw the picture clearly in his mind – a whole bunch of children being tamed and frightened by a single gong. _I knew the woman was smart_.

"We lived that way for so long," Julian said nostalgically. "It was perfect, and then they ruined it, all fun was gone! Responsible! Arion became a victim of this evil first, after what happened to John, and then Cane, after Mum died. I don't understand why did they have to change! What happened to them? Did they have no courage left? Cane didn't even land himself in detentions for two months! I was worried about him. I know that Dad was worried, too."

Suddenly, Sirius felt that he needed to leave the room. Julian's casual chatter made him feel worse than the hatred and malice on Cane's face. He now realized that he preferred Cane's cruelty and insults than Julian's smile. Cane's fury meant that he thought of Sirius, that he knew that Sirius was his father, no matter how much he preferred to play father-son with Remus. _For Julian, I am nothing more than an old friend of his father's. He doesn't blame me because he doesn't think of me, not as his father. At least Cane knows me, he was old enough to remember me. Julian doesn't know me at all and it seems that he didn't even want to get to know me. I have to get out of here._ He could not leave without saying anything, though, so he said, "I think that you don't like the change. Cane being responsible, I mean."

"No," Julian replied instantly. "I don't like the change. Not at all. If Cane is the elder in our family, then who the hell am I?"

Again, Sirius felt the urge to laugh. Angela had had this effect on him too – making him wish to leave their flat in one moment and never let her leave his sight the next one.

Yet, Julian needed his rest. He looked thoroughly exhausted, his face even darker shade of red, his voice hoarser. "I'll let you sleep. No, I'm serious, and not make a pun of my name," Sirius said sternly. "Close your eyes already. You do need a rest. Good night."

Julian fell asleep even before Sirius reached the door.

Remus was still awake when Sirius came back to the room that they shared. He looked at his friend expectantly. "He's fine,' Sirius said shortly, undressed and lied down on his bed.

He could have saved the effort because two hours later, he ended curled up in a black furry ball because Padfoot could easily ignore both voices – Cane's accusing one, full of hatred, and Julian's cheerful one, telling him about a life that Sirius was not part of.

The next morning led Cane to him. He was pale and looked like he had not slept at all. Sirius prepared for the inevitable attack, so Cane's next words surprised him. "I came here to apologize."

That was the last thing that Sirius expected. He only stared at Cane wordlessly, noticing with a pang of guilt that his son's cheek had turned purple and swollen where he had hit him.

"I'm sorry about all I said – I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"But you still meant it – you believe it's true, don't you?"

Cane shrugged. "I shouldn't have said it," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

"Did Remus make you come here?" Sirius asked.

"No, he didn't. He didn't need to. He knew I would come by my own accord."

"I see. Apology accepted."

"Good." Cane's relief was visible. "Uncle Raymond came earlier today – he's still on holiday and his work along with Hestia requires his presence here."

"Great," Sirius said without much enthusiasm. _I couldn't be that lucky to have him out of here for long, could I?_

Apparently, Cane had read his thoughts. "It's a full moon tomorrow night," he said quietly. "He'd like to be here for Arielle and Remus. If you don't mind."

Sirius nodded. "Of course."

"Good. I have to go," Cane said and headed for the door.

"Cane." The way Sirius said it made his son look at him, knowing instantly what his next words would be. "About what happened then..."

"Don't," Cane interrupted, a warning note in his voice.

"Won't you let me explain?"

"Don't," Cane warned him again.

"Cane, please, hear me out. I wasn't..."

"I said shut up!" Cane suddenly shouted, and the fury in his voice surprised even him. "I don't want to think of that, I don't want to hear anything and _most of all_, I don't want to talk about it. It's over. Stop it."

_How strange_, he thought. It turned out that the wound he had thought skinned over was still bleeding. Fourteen years later. A whole life later. Anyway, he should not let his anger take the best of him, not in this manner. Sirius was a man whose life was broken and he had come here to apologize, not to start a new quarrel.

"Just don't," he repeated, if a softer voice this time. "Please."

Sirius nodded and Cane left the room.

Later this day, Sirius thought with surprise about how normal things had become. After seeing that he and Cane acted like nothing bad had happened between them, the others had no difficulties returning to their usual behavior too. But Sirius knew he could never forget what happened. He suspected that Cane, despite his sudden cheerfulness that day, would not forget it either. _And Merlin, he is cheerful today – even unnaturally cheerful_. He and Arion were changing glances the whole time, burst out laughing at the most inappropriate moments and constantly looking at their watches. They looked like they were waiting for something.

Sirius turned out to be almost right. Almost. The boys had been waiting but they had not been waiting for something but someone. As soon as the Order meeting was closed, they waited until the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place 12 came to dinner, and then Cane turned to Professor McGonagall who was there as well, "We've been waiting for ages to tell you, Professor, ages!"

"Tell me what?" she asked.

"Can't you guess?" Arion interrupted. "We can do it!"

"Do what?"

"_It_! I did it last night and Arion – this morning."

She gasped. "And are you fine? You promised you wouldn't try the final stage without my being there – stupid boys – you could be seriously injured...'

"No one was harmed, Professor," Cane smiled brightly. "We tried to keep the promise, we did but it was so difficult – we felt that we could do it – and honestly, did you really think that we won't do this just because we told you that we wouldn't?"

"What is _it_?" Raymond and Sirius asked Remus at the same time but he only shook his head – he had no idea either.

"So, what is _it_ that you are talking about?" he asked.

Cane beamed at him. "Last night, we succeeded our first Animagus transformations," he announced joyfully. "Professor McGonagall has been teaching us for a year and we finally made it. We thought, if Sirius and James could make it, so could we."

"Wicked" Fred or George whistled enviously.

Sirius and Remus both turned to their old teacher with disbelief in their eyes. "Professor!" Sirius exclaimed, shocked. She, however, was not impressed.

"Mr Black," she told him sternly, "do not try to play indignant, it does not suit you. Besides, being the most stubborn student I've ever had the displeasure to tutor, you should recognize stubbornness in other people. If I hadn't offered them my help, the would have tried it anyway and might have been seriously harmed in the process, so I considered it would be the best for everyone if I just helped them carry their crazy idea out."

"Oh," was all that Sirius said at the moment and then he regained his speech. "Are you two mental? Don't you know it's bloody dangerous?"

They only gaped at him. Arion was the first one to recover. "A little hypocritical coming from your mouth, Mr Padfoot, don't you think?"

"PADFOOT!" Fred and George shouted at the same time.

"Padfoot from the Map?"

"Not now, boys,' Remus said in a tired voice; the full moon was near and he felt like he could collapse any minute now.

"Padfoot from the Marauder's Map?"

"Later, I promise. We have more important things to deal with right now."

"Yes, like how did they succeeded in doing this under our noses," Raymond interrupted. "Arion?"

"Not your nose, Dad, the noses of the people at Beauxbatons," Arion explained shortly but he did not look his father in the eye.

"Professor McGonagall gave us weekly lessons," Cane chimed in. "It was perfectly safe."

"And why did you decide to finish it in my absence?" the woman in question asked. "It was dangerous!"

"We just couldn't resist," Arion replied. "Besides, we had to practice – the full moon is tomorrow."

Then Arielle jumped on her feet. "If you expect congratulations and applauses, then you're sadly mistaken," she said coolly. "You are a pair of idiots!" she suddenly shouted. "You could have been seriously hurt while pretending to be my heroes. Besides, I take the Wolfsbane Potion and I don't really need any other animals with me. You could have been killed in the process! Stupid, brainless boys who play with things that they don't know how dangerous they might become, that's what you are!"

And then she hugged her brother fiercely, kissed him in the cheek, then turned to Cane and repeated the ritual. "Stupid, idiotic... men!" she sighed and ran out of the room before bursting into tears.

"Well, I'd like to see a demonstration of your abilities," McGonagall said, and they both laughed aloud.

"What's so funny?" Remus voiced the obvious question.

"You'll see,' Arion promised, while Cane was still touching his now yellow-greenish swollen cheek on the place when Arielle's lips had touched it.

Arion took his Animagus form – a magnificent black panther. He walked all over the kitchen, so that everyone could see and admire the proud animal's light footstep and perfect muscles. Raymond bent down and rubbed his stomach and the panther began purring like a kitten.

"Good job, Mr Lupin," McGonagall said approvingly, and the giant beast beamed in an almost human smile.

Now, it was Cane's turn, and everyone immediately realized why the two friends had been in such high spirits – Cane's wolf could not keep a single color! He began with black, then turned yellow, then brown with one blue ear, then green; white with a black paw, and there was even a brief moment where they saw bristled up, curled magenta fur with white dots all over. It seemed that a Metamorphmagus who was also an Animagus had the same difficulties keeping his animal appearance that he had had years earlier while trying to control his human morphing.

Everybody was laughing, except for McGonagall, who kept muttering, "He's not at Hogwarts. He's not at Hogwarts" all over again.

"Well, that settles the problem with your registering yourselves at the Ministry's" she finally said. "To have a record there, you should give a description of your Animagus form, its distinguishing features and all... As I see things, you don't _have_ any distinguishing features, so why would you bother to go there at all? That goes for you too, Mr Lupin: if Mr Black can escape the penalty for becoming an illegal Animagus, I don't see why you should suffer for them."

"There is no reason," Arion agreed, smiling.

"Congratulation, Minister," she whispered. "Your precious Ministry has just acquired two more illegal Animagi, how nice."

Kingsley who was sitting next to her, laughed aloud but she gave him a stern glare. "Is there something, Mr Shacklebolt?" she answered, and he shook his head.

"Nothing, Professor, nothing at all. I must have imagined it."

The man and the woman came in a little later – a dark-haired man and a red-haired woman who went straight to Arion, throwing her big bag on the carpet. "Hello, Gorgeous," she said, smiling.

"Hello, Beautiful," he answered and hugged her.

"You look good," she said when he let her free. "I'm glad to see you. I missed you. Where is your sister?"

"Somewhere in the house," he answered nonchalantly – too nonchalantly for her liking. Her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," he assured her.

"I _always_ worry when I hear this," she muttered. "What did he do this time, Raymond?"

"Hello, Sylvie. Nice to see you too."

"You're right. I'm sorry. So, what did he do?"

He did not answer, and she decided to leave her investigation for later. Instead, she turned to Cane and hugged him as well. "Hello, my boy!" she said, genuinely happy to see him. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"Not this long," he laughed. "Nice to see you too, Aunt. You look as beautiful as ever and maybe a little younger."

"Of course I look younger," she said very seriously. "I've made a decision not to get old. I've charmed all my mirrors to make me look five years younger. Next year, I'll burn all calendars in France. I heard about your success with Auror exams. Congratulations, both of you."

She kissed both his and Arion's cheeks again. "I suppose I'll see a lot of you in the Ministry then, I suppose."

"My mother is an Auror in the French Ministry of Magic," Arion explained to the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione. They all looked surprised: they knew that Arion lived with his father and stepmother, so they had automatically deduced that his mother was dead. When they looked at her now, it made sense that she was Arielle's mother: she had the same dark eyes, red hair and creamy skin. The difference between the two of them was that she was prettier than her daughter. "Sylvie Saint Claire, and that is Mrs Weasley and her children, and that is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

Sylvie nodded. "I know Molly. I knew her when we were still living in Britain. And I've heard so much for you kids. Remus was full of stories about you."

The twins looked thrilled beyond measure that Mr Moony – it had not taken long to figure that out – had thought them interesting enough to talk about them. Molly Weasley nodded politely, and Sylvie smiled at her. "This is Pierre Brazierre, a colleague of mine," she said to everyone, gesturing at the man she had arrived together with.

"Don't you forget someone?" Raymond intervened. "Where's Anath?"

"She's with Morgaine. She'll come in a few minutes."

"Who's Anath?" Ginny asked curiously.

"My sister," Arion replied. "She was in China last month – Mum took her to one of her business trips. I suppose they came directly from there."

"We heard about Voldemort's return two weeks ago but couldn't make it faster," Sylvie explained. "We had work to do."

"Damn you!" Raymond said with a sudden anger. "Do you ever think of anything else except for your bloody job?"

"Unlike you, you mean?" she replied instantly and just as angrily as him. "You are the one to talk! You are no better than me when it comes to work, Raymond, so don't you dare... Truth be told, we should build a memorial to your mother for looking after our children while we were both busy working!"

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. The others looked at them with surprise but they paid them no attention. "So, what do you have in this bag of yours?" Raymond asked good-naturedly. "Have you bought me a present from China?"

She shook her head. "No presents for ex-husbands," she said firmly. "But there are presents – for the children. Cane, Arion, come here for your presents. _Accio_!"

"You wanted to give me a see-through dress robe?" Arion asked with a straight face, looking at the item that had landed in his arms.

His mother laughed. "Not you, silly. Arielle. I bought it for her."

Raymond came next to his son to expect the robe in question more closely, and his face contorted in disgust. "Arielle? You are going to let her wear such a thing?"

"Why not? Simon will like it on her, that's for sure."

Cane growled at that perspective. Raymond made a similar sound. "Simon? Oh, Merlin, it's getting worse..."

"Come on, Raymond, be nice," Sylvie said in a convincing voice. "Don't you remember that you've been this young too?"

Raymond stopped frowning and his face become serious. "I remember you when you were this young," he said quietly, obviously forgotten about the other people listening to them. "And I remember some of your clothes. And I remember..." He fell silent.

"What?" she asked.

He started laughing. "I remember some of your father's comments about them. Merlin, I'm getting old!"

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**Later the other night**

The blonde-haired woman took the last few steps at one breath and sighed with relief. After a whole day, spent first in the hospital and then with guests for dinner, climbing all the stairs leading to the roof was not an easy task. _I'm not in good form_, she thought. Maybe she should use Michael's help – it was his profession, after all. _I can't keep getting out of breath each time I climb up the stairs_.

He was there, just as she had expected him to be. For the last eight of the fourteen years she had known him, he used to spend each full moon at the roof, staring at the sky. No matter how tired he was – working as a physical therapist was not the easiest job under the sun, – he always, always came here and could not say any logical reason. Once or twice, he had tried to give up that habit but had found out that he was not able to sleep anyway, so he had resumed it. That was the reason of Linda's climbing up the stairs in the middle of the night – she needed to enjoy the company of another human being.

"So, how was the dinner?" he asked without looking at her.

"Fine."

Now, he turned to look at her. "Obviously, it wasn't fine at all. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Is that why you're crying?"

"I'm not!"

"Not now but you have cried. Lind, tell me what's going on. That's why you came here, isn't it?"

She smiled faintly. "Nothing serious, I'm just being stupid. I heard that... Sue told me that... that _she_ was pregnant."

He looked at her with sympathy. "Oh, Lind, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Those things happen. I can't see why this news should affect me, but it does."

"It's normal, Lind. It was your life that she is used to living now."

She angrily wiped the last traces of tears off her face. "It was. It isn't anymore."

"If I happen to meet that ex of yours, the only way for him to be found would be a locating spell," Michael muttered angrily.

She stared at him and he realized what he had said. Fortunately, she was so used to his eccentricities that her only comment was, "You must have had an Irish grandmother, with all those stories of spells and football being played in the air."

"I must have," he agreed, feeling desolate. Why, oh why did he keep saying things like that in the most unexpected moments? They had to mean something, but what was it?

"I hope you aren't going to turn into a werewolf and howl at the moon now, with your lunar obsession," she joked and he smiled. "So, we've talked enough about me, tell me how are things with you. Did you see them again?"

He nodded. "They were there. The boys."

"But you could not see their faces, right?"

"No," he sighed, "I couldn't. Why do they come to me only when it is a full moon, Lind? That means – it has to mean something!"

"It probably does. Tell me what you see, it might help you finally restore the whole memory."

"It won't," he muttered, but continued anyway. "They appear when the moon rises. The three boys. They are right there, and I know them. They are so familiar, but I just can't remember who they are."

"Did you see their faces?"

Michael shook his head. "No, I didn't see them. I never do. They are cloudy, blurred visions, I told you many times."

"And you're still convinced that you know them?"

"I do. I feel that I am connected to them, that they are special and important in my life. I know that the memory is right here, but I can't make it out, it feels so strange. I know them. I know them. Who are they? " He sighed. "Never mind. If I hadn't figured it out for fourteen years, I would hardly figure it now right now. Go to bed, you have to be at the hospital at seven."

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"I'd rather be alone right now, Lind. Go to your flat, make yourself a cup of tea and go to bed. I'll see you at the hospital."

Linda left and he looked at the shining face of the full moon, and thought that he had heard a howl.

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21


	12. Hairstyles and Chickens

**Disclaimer: Look at the previous one.**

_Thank you all, my dear readers and reviewers! I really love getting reviews... in fact, I need getting reviews to write faster, it makes writing easier...!_

Chapter 12

In the morning, a knock made Sirius look at the door. "Come in" he said, and Arielle Lupin quickly slipped in. "Yes?" he asked, surprised.

She threw a nervous look around. "Can anyone hear us?"

Sirius cocked his head to one side, looking very much like a curious puppy as he stared at her. "No."

It was two days after the full moon and the girl seemed to have recovered almost fully, only her face was still a little pale but maybe her red hair made it look this way. Sirius wanted to ask her how she was and whether the transformation had been easier now, with Cane and Arion being able to become animals with her but he did not – he did not know her well and he felt it would be very tactless to ask such a personal question.

"Good, because now we have a chore to do."

_A c__hore. Another room to be cleaned, how nice_, Sirius thought huffily.

She laughed. "Do not pout, Sirius. Merlin, you really look like Cane when he's trying to talk his way out of something, you know. Don't be afraid, you're going to like it."

"Am I?" Sirius wasn't so sure.

"I'm taking you to lunch!" she announced, and Sirius blinked. "As Padfoot, of course, no one would recognize you."

His face lit up. "You really mean it?"

The girl nodded. "Yes. There isn't any meeting until tonight, and you pout so often that..."

"I do not pout!"

"Do so."

"Do not!"

"Do so." Arielle sighed. "Look, that is not going to lead us anywhere. What I mean is that your staying in your room without anyone seeing you is not something unusual, so I don't think anyone would suspect anything. No one will notice your absence."

He could not believe his ears. "Really? You're going to do this for me?"

She smiled. "I'm under my Uncle's orders to take you out for a walk," she joked. "Now, let's get you prepared. Transform."

Sirius obeyed and sat on his hunches, peering curiously at the package that she began unwrapping. There was a strange smell emanating from the reddish powder Arielle sipped into the freshly conjured vial that offended his canine senses, and Padfoot went to investigate. The girl was just mixing the powder with water, when she felt something nudging her. She instinctively stepped aside and the next moment the red mixture went all over Padfoot's big black nose. The dog yelped in surprise and quickly leaped aside. Arielle laughed softly. "Don't worry, I have an extra stock in my bag. _Scourgify_!"

Now with his muzzle clean, Padfoot pointed with his paw at the vial and cocked his head to one side. Arielle understood the non-verbal question and explained, "This is a hair-dye. As I said, we need to change your appearance before we let you out."

With a soft pop, Sirius reappeared, looking horrified. "No way!" he shouted.

"Be reasonable, Sirius, we can't have you running in the street looking like a big black dog, and we can't change your appearance with magic, either, because every wizard we see could be able to identify you it if he knows what he's looking for."

"I don't want to be reasonable," Sirius grumbled. "That's your uncle's job. Under no condition will I let you dye my fur!"

"Do you want outside or not?" Arielle asked energetically and he nodded reluctantly, before changing into Padfoot again. "It's a good thing that I brought more hair-dye. You are _huge_!"

Padfoot looked with fascinated horror, while the redhead was coming near him with combs, brushes and spoons – so many instruments of torture that would soon be put into painful action. To his credit, he made no move to stop her, he just kept whining pathetically the whole time she was working on his fur. Finally, it was harder to say which one of the two of them was more dripping with sweat, before she stretched her arms happily. "I'm done!" she announced cheerfully. "Sweet Merlin, I swear that you have more hair than I do!" she added, before putting a Cleaning Charm on both of them. "It's better now. Come on, we're leaving."

Not daring to throw a look at the mirror and carefully avoiding looking at his freshly dyed front paws, Padfoot followed her downstairs, where they met Harry, who burst out laughing, but stopped hurriedly, afraid that he'd wake Sirius' dear old mum. Yet, he could not stop his chuckles. Padfoot growled quietly.

"Sorry, Sirius, I can't help myself," Harry grinned. "You look so cute."

_Cute? What __has she done to my fur?_ Sirius decided that he did not want to know. Instead, he looked at Arielle for explanation. "Harry's coming with us," she explained. "Mrs Weasley won't be back until tonight, so we have time to go to lunch."

But they did not go to lunch, at least not immediately. Instead, they headed for the nearest park where Sirius could bark joyfully, chase birds and his own tail –a white one! - and run in circle as much as he wanted, while Harry and Arielle sat on a bench with their fuzzy drinks and watched him with amused smiles. Harry had even brought an old ball with him and they played fetch.

Finally, Padfoot exhausted himself completely and went to their bench, whining pitifully. "I know, I know," said Arielle, rising up. "Just a little journey with the underground, and we'll have the lunch I promised you. They even allow pets there."

_Food_. Sirius barked again and wagged his tail at her.

The underground journey took them twenty minutes and then another ten minutes walking on foot in what seemed like a London suburb. "Erm, Arielle?" Harry said uncomfortably.

She turned to look at him. "We're almost there, just a little while... Ah, here we are."

Sirius looked skeptically at the big wooden door, so old and unfashionable. "Are you sure it is the right restaurant?" Harry asked, voicing Sirius' own suspicions.

The girl flashed a smile at him. "No," she answered, "it's a house."

"But you said..."

"I said I would take you to lunch. My Gran is cooking a chicken – well, many chickens, in fact."

Her Gran. "You've brought us to your grandparents' house?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Don't you like chicken?" She was amazed.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You've brought us to your grandparents' house just like that?"

She shrugged. "They love guests."

'Arielle, my girl!" a deep voice bellowed from the front door. She turned to it immediately. "Hello, Grandpa."

The man in front of him looked just like Sirius remembered him – only with more wrinkles and a hair that was completely white. Still broad-shouldered and strong, John Lupin did not seem like he had lost a bit of his vitality or his kind heart. "Come here, girl! You're late, you know. I've been waiting for ages to see my most favorite grandchild."

"That' it!" Cane said indignantly from behind him. "Last week, when your lawn needed to be mown, I was your most favorite grandchild."

"Well, you did mow it already. Come in, Arielle. Come in, James... oh Merlin!"

He looked at his granddaughter for explanation. "That's him, isn't it? It's Harry. You are, right?"

Harry nodded and the old man's face broke into a smile even wider than the one he had sent Arielle. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, my boy. Last time I saw you, you were only one."

"You've seen me?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Of course I have. Come in, do not stay outside."

Once the newcomers had passed through the front door, Mr Lupin turned to Padfoot with curiosity. "And who might you be? Do not tell me – they brought you for me, didn't they? We'll have a hard time convincing Julia to keep you but finally, we'll do it. Just don't shed all over the furniture and it will be fine and – oh, by the way, are you house-trained?"

That made it for Sirius, who burst out in doggish giggles. "Are you laughing at me?" Mr Lupin asked him suspiciously while walking towards the house.

"Yes!" Cane snickered behind him and Harry laughed quietly. Arielle giggled. Sirius was not happy – he could laugh at his current situation, but they were not allowed to! He shot them an annoyed glance but that only made them laugh harder. With a haughty huff, he ignored them and went to lick Mr Lupin's hand. The old man ruffled the fur behind Padfoot's ears and looked at the merry trio with suspicion.

"What did you do?" he asked and they all entered the house.

"I told you that we're having a surprise for you," Cane said. "And no, it's not only Harry, it is..."

"A puppy!"

Padfoot blinked and decided better than changing back. A little girl, no more than five, came running towards him and stop just an inch before crushing into him. Her dark eyes were full of excitement and admiration. She then looked at Harry. "Is that your dog?" she asked.

Harry laughed again. "Yes."

"What's his name?"

"Snuffles."

She nodded. "I'm Eleanor Lupin," she introduced herself, and Harry took her outstretched hand.

"My name is Harry."

She nodded again, before turning to Padfoot again. "I'm Eleanor Lupin," she repeated. "You are Snuffles. Now, I know you and you know me. May I pet you already?"

"Elle, I don't think that..." Mr Lupin began.

"Leave it, Grandpa," Cane said. "It's perfectly safe."

John Lupin did not seem convinced and watched warily, as Eleanor held out her palm for the dog's inspection. Padfoot sniffed it and began wagging his tail. The little girl started stroking his head and the wagging doubled in intensity. "He likes me!" she exclaimed happily. "Snuffles and I, we are friends already."

By this time, Padfoot already knew who she was – he had heard the story of John Lupin, Raymond's eldest son, and his girlfriend, who had been hit with the Curse of the Living Dead months before their child was born. He shuddered at the thought that they had not even realized it when she came into the world. James and Lily's deaths were horrible, Angela's death on the day of her son's birth was tragic, but this – this was ominous. Yes, that was the word for it. Ominous.

"Still a hit with the girls, I see." Julia Lupin had appeared from inside the house. "Just like I remember you as a boy. They were practically throwing themselves at your feet, they did." She smiled warmly. "Welcome, Harry and Sirius."

Mr Lupin choked. "Sirius?" he spluttered, and Sirius changed back and smiled at him.

"Hello, Mr Lupin."

"Merlin, boy, I wouldn't have recognized you. You look awful and... why are you blond?"

"What?..." Sirius yelled and rushed into the first room he saw, almost knocking down Remus, who had come to investigate what was going on.

"There aren't any mirrors in there!" Remus shouted after him, then he looked at Harry and Cane and the three of them burst out laughing.

"Merlin, what did you do to him?" Cane barely managed to say, looking at Arielle helplessly.

"Well, I told you that I'll take care of disguising him," she said defiantly. "I dyed his fur, that's all."

"Fine, but did you tell him that the color stays on his _hair_ after changing back?" Cane insisted.

"I might have missed that little detail," she shrugged nonchalantly and giggled.

"A little detail? _A little detail_?" Sirius was spluttering with rage while he was closing the door behind him. "I look like _Lucius Malfoy!_" he bellowed, managing only to send his son, his godson and his best friend into further fits of laughter – the girl at least had the decency to look contrite. "Change it back!" he shouted.

Arielle stopped looking contrite. "No," she said firmly.

"Yes."

"No. Do you know that my fingers still hurt of working on all that fur? No way will I change you with magic now, only to be forced to dye you back when we have to leave."

"Lass..." Sirius began menacingly.

"Do you want to stay with white-blond hair for the next year, Sirius?" she asked and his eyes widened with horror. "'Cause that's how long it takes for the color to disappear by itself. Do stop nagging and I will change you back as soon as we're back in the Headquarters. Deal?"

Sirius looked at her and reluctantly agreed, "Deal."

"Good," Mrs Lupin intervened. "Now, lunch. God knows that you need to put some weight on your bones, Sirius, and as far as I remember James, Harry won't turn down food, either."

Harry grinned, but then felt suddenly sad, as he saw the looks Sirius and the old woman were changing. There was a deep sadness in Mrs Lupin's deep blue eyes, while she was looking at Sirius' thin, previously handsome face. Sirius, on the other hand, was looking at the new wrinkles on the woman's smooth skin, at her hair, whose black color should be a deal of a flask and not nature anymore, and remembered all the times when he had come to visit the Lupins in their former house near the sea. Mrs Lupin had been young then, but still with the same warm smile and hospitable manners. By her look, he could say that she pitied him but she would never say it aloud, of course. Instead, she smiled, made a step towards him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Welcome home, Sirius," she repeated and without thinking, he picked her up from the floor to hug her. She said nothing, despite the fact that the hug threatened to break her bones and just held him as tight as he was holding her. Yes, unlike his return to Grimmauld Place, now he felt as if he had come home.

"_I don't believe it!"_

Harry looked at Arielle, confused, that at Cane, who had his mouth agape, but Sirius did not let Mrs Lupin off, clearly knowing what the girl meant. Remus only shook his head, smiling. "Some things never change," Mr Lupin concluded.

"What things?" Harry asked, and Cane answered, "Sirius picked Grandma up."

"Yes, I see, and what of that?"

"What of that? _What of that_?" Cane still looked amazed. "No one, _no one_ is allowed to pick her up, not even Arion or I. You see, she's really cranky about her height and she thinks it diminishes her authority. She likes to think of herself as the tallest of us all, so no one is allowed to pick her up. I can't believe Sirius did it and lived through it."

Finally, Sirius let the woman off and grinned at Cane. "I've always been allowed to do it."

Cane shook his head. "Playing favorites again, I see."

When they went into the living room, everyone stared at Sirius' hair and laughed – Fred and George actually fell off their chairs – _Fred and George_.

"Have you brought the whole Order here?" Sirius asked while counting: the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, as well as Morgaine, Julian and Anath Lupin, a small red-haired girl Julian's age, who looked as a younger copy of her beautiful mother. "Is Dumbledore going to make an appearance, too?"

"No," Arion Lupin answered from behind him, "it's just us."

Sirius said the first thing that came to his mind, which was, "Merlin! How did you manage to prepare food for us all, Mrs Lupin?"

"Yes, I wondered about that too," Fred confessed. "Especially when she had to do it all by hand – Sirius, Mrs Lupin is a Muggle!"

It was Sirius' turn to laugh. "Yes, Gred, I know."

"Sylvie helped me," the woman in question explained. "I'll go to the kitchen, it's time for serving. Come with me, Arielle, you're going to help me."

"I'll come too, Mrs Lupin," Ginny and Hermione offered simultaneously and she nodded, as if it was something normal for strangers to help her in the kitchen.

"Ginny's never seen a Muggle kitchen before," Fred whispered to Sirius. "I bet she's dying from curiosity."

Mr Lupin took his seat at the table. "Now, I want to know," he said, "who told Julia who our guests are and why I weren't told."

"It wasn't me," Cane said immediately, noticing his grandfather's suspicious look landing on him. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Then who did it?"

"It was me," George confessed.

"You? But why would you do such a thing?" Ron asked now, and George grinned.

"Because she promised me an extra piece of that oh so heavenly smelling pie if I told her what the big surprise was."

Arion snickered. "She tricked you. She always gives _everyone_ an extra piece of cake."

"So I spilled the secret for nothing?" George sounded disbelievingly.

Sirius inhaled deeply the smell of the food that Sylvie Saint Claire was bringing on a tray. "No, not for nothing."

Harry's eyes grew larger when Mrs Lupin and the girls followed Sylvie, each carrying a tray. There was not only chicken, but potatoes, rice, stew, all sorts of salads, fish, stakes, cucumbers, tomatoes, capsicums and uncountable amount of fruit. "It is enough to feed an army!" he whispered, and Mr Lupin next to him laughed.

"James used to say almost the same thing," he said. "Only, he clarified which army he meant."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Napoleon's army," the old man explained. "He read about Napoleon in one of Remus' books and he used to say that Julia's cooking was enough to feed Napoleon's army."

"I can see his point," Harry muttered, looking at all the food in front of him.

"Oh, it will go,' Mr Lupin assured him. "I'm so happy that I can finally meet you. You know, you're the first Potter I meet under normal circumstances."

"I am?" Harry asked, filled with excitement at the opportunity to hear more about his father.

"Oh yes. Your father and his broom landed in our neighbours' house one night in July, after his first year at Hogwarts."

"He got the house wrong?" Harry guessed, trying not to smile.

"He did, so instead of our house, he crashed into the closed window of Kitty Williamson, the neighbours' daughter. I had to put a Memory Charm on the whole family in order for them to forget that a twelve-year old boy landed in their house riding a broom. Well, there was at least one profit in the whole situation – we found out where Raymond used to spend the nights he didn't spend in his own bedroom."

Harry choked on his steak and Mr Lupin tapped him on the back. Cane, who had heard the story, burst out laughing.

"Kitty Williamson," Sylvie muttered darkly. "No wonder she used to give me all those poisonous glares after I married Raymond. Never liked her anyway. Skinny blonde with no brains and big..." She realized that Cane and Harry were staring at her – as well as Raymond – and fell silent for a moment. "I'm not jealous!" she hissed in Raymond's ear.

"Of course you aren't," he agreed. "Does the thought that my mother was very inclined to use her wooden spoon on me make you feel better?"

"Infinitely better," she muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately, he had said the last words loud enough for Ron to hear. "The wooden spoon?" he repeated in disbelieving voice.

Raymond shrugged, Remus smiled, and Mrs Lupin announced, "A wooden spoon – a fine deterrent to sassy mouths."

"You walloped me once with it, Mrs Lupin, remember?" It was Sirius who spoke, without looking away from Elle who was sitting next to him, toying with her Brussels sprouts and obviously hoping that a miracle would make them disappear.

"Really?" Intrigued, Remus studied his friend. "I never heard about that."

Sirius took a sip of his wine. "Oh, Mrs Lupin and I decided it would be our little secret."

"And so it has been," Julia muttered. "Until now."

Remus laughed. "How many whacks did you give him, Mum?"

"I didn't count. It was..."

"I did. Five. In rapid and shocking succession." He met Remus' look sneer for sneer. "I still say it was Remus and Raymond's fault."

"Mine?" Raymond asked.

"Well, you were..."

"Six years your senior," Julia Lupin interrupted in a voice that made Sirius feel thirteen again. "If he wanted to dive from the rock over the sea, he was free to do it. Remus was forbidden to even try it because he could end up badly hurt and while you were under my roof, the same applied to you, and what did you do instead?" She shrank him with a look. "Of course you had to try and dash yourself on the rock."

"Oh, that time," Remus smiled. "I'd like to know how it was my fault."

"Well, you dived from that rock and do not dare say that you didn't. I saw you."

"So," Remus shrugged, "Raymond taught me."

"Which would have earned both of you a swat had I known that part of it."

Satisfied, Sirius helped himself a second steak. "See?"

"What happened next?"

"Your mum's wooden spoon happened," Sirius answered absent-mindedly, studying Elle and Julian sitting beside him. With her dark hair, olive skin and high cheekbones, Elle could be mistaken for Julian's younger sister, which meant she looked like...

"And how did you take it?"

"He yelped like a scalded puppy," Julia's dry comment brought a burst of laughter around the table. "But I hurt more than he did."

"Impossible!" Sirius said confidently, bringing more laughter from the others.

"Well, he came back to me about an hour later," Mrs Lupin continued. "He apologized very profusely, and then asked me if we couldn't keep the matter between us."

Sirius only smiled, remembering how his anger and insult had melted at the thought that she had done it only because she cared for him – and, feeling full of joy and happiness, decided to be generous and moved his wand, transferring the dreaded Brussels sprouts from Elle's plate to his own.

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Harry leafed through the old photo album that Professor Lupin had given him, looking more closely at the pictures where his parents were. There were many photos of James at various ages, alone or with his friends, quite a lot of Raymond and Remus and Sylvie – _of course she would be there, she was still married to Remus' brother at that time_ – with the twins and another boy, older, that Harry had never met. There were many pictures of Cane's mother and Harry remembered that she had been a neighbour of the Lupins'. He smiled, feeling happy to be outside Grimmauld Place for a day and even more so because Sirius seemed to be enjoying greatly his stay here. And he saw pictures of his parents...

"I have a video record," Mrs Lupin said from the threshold. Seeing his blank look, she smiled. "I bought a video camera many years ago and not knowing how to use it properly, my husband accidentally let it outside switched on one night when your parents were at our old house, so they are on the record. Do you want to see it?"

"Oh yes!" Harry instantly replied. He had seen pictures of his parents but even wizard pictures were not the same as a video record. He waited impatiently until the old woman found the cassette and turned the video recorder on and barely noticed her leaving, his attention was entirely focused on the record.

At the beginning, there was nothing interesting, just dusk, an old looking house, lawn and a shining red motorbike. Harry looked at it more intently and recognized it as the same motorbike that Sirius had, the one he had named after his wife. There was a strange noise in the distance, like a roar and Harry could not say where it came from.

After a minute or so, Sirius came out of the house and Harry almost gasped – he looked so young and full of life and joy, nothing like the man Harry knew. He went to the bike, knelt beside it and started inspecting it. He seemed so taken by his chore that he did not notice the other person who had left the house until he came to him.

"How many stars are there in the sky, Daddy?"

Cane. It was Cane. Harry decided that he should be no more than three or four there.

"Why, you're up so early, kid!" Sirius exclaimed. He thought he was the only one awake in the house.

"There are at least hundred of them, aren't there?"

"A hundred..." Sirius said absent-mindedly while looking at the motor. "No, kid, not at all. We could count for years to count only the ones above our heads and then there are the others that we can't see at all!..." He smiled and looked at his son just in time to see his suspicious look at the sky.

"But how could there be stars that we can't see? And if we don't see them, then how are we going to count them? What happens to the stars when the sun rises? Where do they go? Why do they disappear? Do they fall into the sea?" asked Cane with great interest. His Daddy surely knew the answers to those questions.

Sirius grinned and playfully nudged Cane with his nose. "That's it! What is there in this head of yours, kid? Do not pester Daddy with your unceasing questions while he checks the bike. You don't want us to suddenly fell from the sky on some unsuspecting Muggle's head, do you?" He laughed aloud.

Cane started whimpering with fear and joy when his father picked him up and threw him high in the air. Sirius caught him, threw him again and them locked him in his embrace. "Now, Cane! Do you want to touch the stars?" His face was shining with joy. "They're going to fade soon," he warned his son while Cane was hiding his face in his father's shirt, laughing.

"Oh yes, Daddy! Please, let me touch them!" Cane pleaded and looked above to the sky where the last stars were still shining.

"Okay, take a good grip of my neck, Cane Black! We're going to the sky!" Sirius announced and kissed the boy's cheek. "Now, may Merlin help us! May we have luck..."

"You don't need any luck, Daddy," Cane corrected him. "You always say that a real man can do anything. And that only fools and weaklings hope they will have luck and sit idle waiting for fate to take care of them... Right?" Cane was solemnly reciting his father's worldly wisdom.

"That kid is mocking me, I swear," Sirius said and laughed deeply. "Oh Merlin, I should be careful in the future, or otherwise I'll have to sit with my mouth agape while you're reciting like Defence Spells my own stupid comments..." he said, while guiding the bike higher and higher, leaving the camera and Harry's vision.

After a minute, someone came into vision again and Harry felt his breathing stop when he recognized his own face, only with a longer nose and brown eyes, and a few years older. James Potter still looked sleepy and obviously, Harry was not the one who thought so, because something cut the air and hit James in the shoulder.

"What the..." James muttered, taking the object from the grass. It was a little shoe and James lost no time in looking upwards. Harry could say that his father did not believe his eyes.

"Oi, we're caught!" came Sirius' voice and in a minute, the bike with Sirius on it and Cane on Sirius' shoulders came into view. James' face turned ashen and somehow, Harry did not think that it was because his father could not stand heights. He could almost read James' thoughts: _what the hell would happen if Sirius lose his balance? Merlin, do not let Angela wake up!_

"Hey, Prongs, why that grim face in such a lovely day?" Sirius yelled at his friend who was looking at him with silent reproach. "Smile, man, smile, nothing is lost yet! Soon, you're going to be in your precious office waiting for Moody's orders."

James laughed in spite of himself.

"I'm happy to see you in such good spirits! A g_ood_ morning, really."

"Really, Angela, a nice morning, and your presence make it even better!" James snickered, imagining the trouble his friend had just landed himself into. She had not noticed Sirius and Cane yet, but she would soon and then...

"If Sirius wasn't right there, listening to us, I'd have thought that you were flirting with me, James!" she smiled wickedly.

"Angela, that's the last thing to cross my mind!" James protested, obviously taken aback.

"You mean that I'm not pretty enough for a flirt?" Angela pouted, feigning hurt, and Harry saw her barely suppressing her smile.

James, obviously, did not, or maybe he was still too sleepy to notice. "No, Angela, you misunderstood me. You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life!"

It could be true, Angela Black looked stunning in her Muggle jeans and green blouse, with waves of dark hair falling on her back and a wide smile plastered on her face.

"_Prongs_! I had no idea you felt such a thing for my wife. What is Lily going to say if she ever finds out?" Sirius cried from above them.

"No! There is no such thing!" James began and fell silent when their laughter told him that they were joking again.

"Oh, James, go inside and have a good sleep. You aren't yourself right now," Sirius said.

"I might do exactly that," James muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look at me! I touched the stars and now I want to touch the sun!"

Angela only smiled, looking at her husband and son coming down to the earth.

James simply could not make out how on earth Angela could possibly be this calm. She was not holding her breath; neither was she shouting warnings at Sirius. Angela felt his gaze on her and laughed. Harry even saw her hand patting his father's to calm him down – _him_!

"You're up quite early, Angela," James said.

"I'm used to getting up early in summer," she shrugged. "When I lived here, I used to walk near the sea every morning."

James kept silent for a while. "It must be hard for you to be so close to your parents and never be able to talk to them."

Angela shook her head. "I've gotten used to it," she said. "It will never change. My parents are good people but they have their principles and I broke them, so they shut me out of their lives. And I'm so happy and proud of my marriage and my son. I'm sorry about Nor, though. She was only five when I left and I'm not allowed to see her anymore. My parents are quite old to give her that sort if attention that she deserves. I've seen her looking at John through the window sometimes. She needs friends her own age. Fortunately, in a couple of years she will go to Hogwarts and..." She kept silent.

James' eyes flew to the couple that was now landing on the ground. "Are you never afraid?" he asked, and Angela smiled again, figuring it out what he was talking about.

"Sirius would have never taken him upwards if there was a hint of danger. He may not be careful enough when it comes to his own safety but he would never expose Cane to danger."

"Only for those words," Sirius announced, "I'm going to make you dinner tonight."

She laughed and he kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Hey! There is a child present!" James protested, and everything went black.

Now, Harry saw for the first time that Sirius was sitting on the sofa beside him. He barely dared to look at his godfather, bracing himself for the pain he would see on his face – the same pain as the one he had seen there when Sirius had been watching the scene came out from Angela's diary. This time, however, there was no sadness in Sirius' features – only sheer joy.

"The Dementors," Sirius explained, feeling Harry's look. "They took it from me. It was too good a memory to be left unscathed. But now, I have it back. I can even remember how it felt to be flying on the bike with Cane touching the stars." He grinned happily. "I have it back!" he repeated.

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"Where are you going?"

Sylvie sighed and turned towards Raymond. "It's time for me to go. I already said my goodbyes."

"I see. I'm glad you came, though."

"Me too," she answered.

"Where are you going?" he asked before he could stop himself. "Do you and Brazierre have a date for tonight?"

"I don't see how it is any concern of yours," she said coldly.

"You're right, of course. I'm sorry."

She stepped back into the room and slowly went to the fireplace, looking at the pictures there – the old Lupins, Remus and Raymond, Elise, the children. She was there too and that fact filled her with gratitude and relief that after all that had happened her ex in-laws had not removed her from their pictures, nor their lives. It would have hurt her more than she cared to admit. "You married another woman, can't I at least date?" she asked.

"You can, of course you can."

"Pierre is my colleague, I know him longer than I know you and we have many common tastes," Sylvie continued. "Doesn't that make us a perfect match?"

"Perfect indeed."

"Who other of the men I could choose could possibly evoke more hatred of your side?" she asked almost nonchalantly.

"No one else," Raymond answered evenly, and the woman suddenly laughed.

"Merlin, Raymond, sometimes I really miss you."

"Often?" he asked, smiling.

"What do you think?"

She suddenly turned to the door again. "I have to go. Take care, Raymond."

"Bye."

He looked at her going away and sighed, feeling a sudden emptiness inside him. Today, for the very first time since it happened, he had been with Sylvie – the _real_ Sylvie – and the children at a family meeting and it was hard to let her go. Today he found what he had already suspected confirmed – he still felt Sylvie, the children and himself like a unity. Oh, he did love Pamela and his youngest son but there was no feeling of unity. _It's only because I've been with Pam less than three years and with Sylvie – more than twenty,_ he told himself, but he knew that was not it.

Slowly, he went to the fireplace, took one of the pictures in his hand, and looked at it intently. A young man Arion's age smiled at him and winked.

Each time he looked at the photograph, he was taken by the same memory. The family meeting in this house, five years ago, just before their going back to France, because the twins and Cane had to start their new year at Beauxbatons. He had just found Cane and Arielle kissing in that same room and had scolded them angrily but he could not stay angry forever. He was talking to Elise about the trip that she and Remus were going to make and Sylvie was watching a cartoon with Anath and Morgaine. John had to leave before them, because his first class at the Auror training in London was early in the morning. He was wearing his black jeans, smiling widely, and his deep blue eyes – the eyes inherited from Raymond and Julia – were warm, vital and shining with intelligence. "See you at Christmas!" he said and left.

Those were his final words.

A year later, Elise was dead and John and Eleanor were worse than dead. Arielle was a werewolf. Sylvie was completely out of order. Elle's birth had brought them no joy. It had been months after her birth when Raymond was really able to smile at her or hold her without it being necessary for her bathing or feeding, or falling asleep. Thank Merlin that _that_ phase had passed.

He looked again at his son's smiling face. _It wasn't like they said it was,_ he thought_, I know it wasn't. Experimenting with spells, yes, he did it regularly and got the hell out of me, but not that spell. It's a Dark magic, for Merlin's sake, and he wanted to develop his abilities in _Defense_, not learning Death Eaters' spells. Besides, he and Eleanor were too clever to risk such a spell going wrong with her being pregnant and nothing on earth could have me convinced that John put a Memory Charm on his brother. If only Arion could remember!_ But he would never risk his son's health by placing a restoring charm on him. The memory should come out by its own. _And when it happens, the perpetrator will have to make a good run for his life because I'm going to kill him_!

"Are you okay?"

Raymond looked at his brother and nodded silently, but then he heard himself whispering in a grim voice, 'I'm starting to think that this family is cursed."

Surprised by his brother's tone and expression, Remus looked at him amazed. "Raymond, are you becoming superstitious? What are these moods!"

"Just think of the last five years, Remus. About what happened to John and Eleanor. Elle lost both her parents even before her birth. Elise died. Morgaine got mute. Arielle was bitten. Isn't that enough for one to think that there is some curse over the family?"

"If you truly believed this, you would have consulted a cursebreaker and not talking to me," Remus said firmly, unwilling to deepen his brother's sudden grim thoughts. 'You're just thinking of the last dinner here, five years ago."

Raymond laughed mirthlessly. "I swear, Remus, you could give Pamela a run for her money in her field of work. No, just think of it. Maybe the fact that you were bitten at the age of six was a happy occasion? Or my divorce with Sylvie? And what are you going to tell about your Julian who was born blind?" Raymond gave his brother a long look. "It seems that we are being punished for something."

"Stop it," Remus said firmly. "I don't believe it and I know that you don't believe it too. Bad things happen to any family. Look at the positive side, neither Arielle or I died from the bite, John and Eleanor were not cursed with the _Avada Kedavra_, Sylvie got over what happened and Julian... it could have been far worse. He could have been born retarded or with a limb missing. Compared to that, I think that a very intelligent boy who just happened to be blind and needs regular treatment is a real blessing."

"Merlin, Remus! You're so tactful usually but sometimes you say things that..."

"But that's true and I'm not a hypocrite."

"I know," Raymond sighed and his face cleared. "Come on, let's join the others... Dad wants his garden degnomed and Sirius is helping the children."

"... Come again?"

"He's chasing gnomes in his dog form," Raymond explained. "You don't want to miss that, believe me."

Remus laughed and followed his brother outside but before leaving the room, he threw a last glance at the photos, at Elise and John, at Raymond and Sylvie so happy together, at Julian with his sunglasses and suppressed a sigh.

Sometimes life was very unfair.

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**Thank you for reading. **

21


	13. The End of the New Beginning

**Disclaimer: ****Does J. K. Rowling write fanfiction? No? Well, I suppose that means that I am not her and I own nothing... sniff, sniff...**

_Thank you, My Dear__, __**Dear**__ Reviewers, you all make me happy!_

Chapter 13

The Worst News Possible

_A few months later…_

"Good morning, boys," Arielle said cheerfully, opening the door of the kitchen.

"Good morning," Arion answered without looking away from his newspaper.

"Hello," Cane said after a second, his eyes searching for her flushed face and wet hair. Arion threw him a quick glance and sighed inaudibly, not missing the flash of hurt and disappointment on his friend's face. Have Arielle seen them, too? He was not sure, but it did not matter anyway. Arielle certainly knew how Cane felt for her and yet, she was sitting right in front of him, just coming back into the flat that the three of them shared after being away for the whole night. At least she had had the decency to have a shower before making an appearance. _Only Merlin knows what Cane would have done if he had smelled her new boyfriend on her_, Arion thought. It was silly of him to hope that one day that thing between his twin sister and his best friend would come the way it had been before… well, before. Arielle had made it clear that it would not happen and yet, Cane had not lost hope. Something must have happened between the two of them, something that kept Cane hoping against hope that one day he will have Arielle on his side. Arion did not know what it was, though. He just could not imagine another way in which Arielle could make it clearer that she was not interested in him anymore. Except for putting a sign on her robe or rather, blouse, because robes would look rather strange on a student in Sorbonne. She had dated boys before Edmond, back at Beauxbatons, and each time Cane saw her with any of them, there was the same pain and disappointment in his eyes, before he put his inscrutable mask on. And Arielle was not happy, not really, Arion could tell this much. _If it wasn't for that damned bite,_ _Arielle and Cane would have become a couple, _he thought. _Now, she suffers and she makes him suffer, too. Why does Arielle do it? I don't understand her, no matter how hard I try_. Sometimes, he was afraid that Arielle had taken too much after their mother and would end up just like Sylvie, driving away the people she loved most in the world.

"What are the two of you going to do today?" she asked, stealing a chocolate biscuit from Cane's plate. Arion shook his head. _No wonder Cane keeps hoping and her boyfriends keep being jealous. No matter what you say, Arielle, you are never going to let him go. You care about him just as much as he cares about you, so why won't you just admit it and make all our lives easier?_

He realized that they were still waiting for him to answer, so he shrugged and said, "After the classes, I'll go and meet Chantal, she wants to talk to me about something. You?"

She took a sip of her orange juice. "I don't have classes today. I suppose I'll just stay here for a while."

Arion and Cane exchanged quick glances, having the same thought: how unfair it was that Arielle, who had bested them both in Defence against the Dark Arts, was not allowed to become an Auror and instead, she was forced to go to a Muggle university, so she could find a job in the Muggle world.

Not noticing their glances, Arielle looked at her brother with interest. "Chantal? As in Chantal Lefaise? What does she want of you?"

"Just to meet her at the Enchanted Cakes'. I don't know what she has in her mind."

"Maybe you shouldn't go there," Arielle said slowly. "I mean, who knows what she wants of you? It might not be safe."

Arion smirked. He seemed to trust the ex Head Girl of Beauxbatons more than his twin sister trusted her former roommate. However, he had no desire to meet Chantal today – the Auror training on Thursday was always the hardest – four classes and three practices in a row. He was a little angry with himself for not refusing Chantal when she had Firecalled to ask for that meeting but it would have been impolite. They had worked together as Head Boy and Head Girl and had accomplished something like friendship. Besides, Chantal had always treated him well. He remembered the first months after the tragedy had stricken and their family had turned into a topic for gossip for almost every wizarding household in France. He had changed then and his friends other than Cane and Fleur had not known how to react to their cheerful and carefree friend being suddenly turned into a grim, responsible adult and strangely, the only one who had treated him no differently had been Chantal Lefaise, the outsider in their classmates' groups. A meeting in inconvenient time was the least he could do for her. She had looked so pale and thin this morning, with a haggard face and sunken eyes, the only thing alive about her had been her long dark hair. No, he had to meet her.

When he entered the Enchanted Cakes, one of the most famous and expensive wizard sweetshops in Paris, Chantal was not there but the waitress told him that Mademoiselle Lefaise had said that she would come soon, so he sat down and waited.

The visitors kept looking at him and whispering, obviously wondering what he was doing there when he was known for not liking such places. Soon, the waitress came again and he decided that if he had come here, he could at least play the scene in a proper way, so he ordered a cake and, after a short hesitation, a glass of cognac, only to be informed that they served cognac only with tea.

That was too much. He had come to this awful snobbish place, he had waited patiently for a girl who obviously did not care about the other people's time, he had even ordered a cake, but under no circumstances would he accept a cup of tea, like an old and respectable gentleman. He wanted cognac – only cognac.

"Give me a water glass of cognac without tea!"

The girl did not move, obviously not knowing what to do.

"That's all!", Arion said, and in a few minutes, she came back with his order on a tray. Arion shook his head at the sight of the single glass, but decided not to embarrass the poor waitress further by asking for a glass of water. Instead, he lit a cigarette and immediately noticed the new volley of whispers caused by his using of a Muggle cigarette. He sighed quietly. _Is this place visited only by pureblood maniacs?_ He looked at his watch and just then, he suddenly started because the whispers had stopped all at once. He raised his eyes and there she was, at the door. Chantal. She looked touching with her nervousness, innocence and beauty. Her curly dark hair was disheveled, she was flushed and out of breath but what was most noticeable about her was the big suitcase, elegant and with the initials of the Lefaise family on it. Only Merlin knew why she had chosen not to Levitate it. Its weight almost folded her slender body in two. Suddenly, everyone in the sweetshop started talking and looking at the girl who crossed the hall. Arion stood up, astounded, went to her, took the suitcase and led her to his table, feeling himself flushing and sweating from embarrassment. He left the dark-red suitcase next to the table and waited for Chantal to sit up. She snuggled into her armchair and looked at him in the eye, and then tried to smooth her hair. Looking at her hands, Arion saw that she had four bracelets on her wrists and six rings on her fingers. He felt his jaw dropping because he had never seen her wearing jewels.

"Chantal, what are you trying to do?" he asked quietly.

"I'm doing what I have to!"

"But now everyone knows! I just don't know why you chose me for this dumb show. Here are the gossipers of all Paris..."

"That's what I counted on! Every single tattler is here. Now, there is no going back!"

"Chantal, now go out until I pay my bill, and leave this trunk to me. Merlin, you look like a Christmas tree!"

"But it's so cozy in here and I am so tired... I have these jewels from my grandmother. I'll need them! What are you drinking?"

"It doesn't matter! Do you want to take something?"

"Yes, that stuff you are drinking... And be nice, please, Arion... This day took it out of me!"

He looked for a glass and found none. Just when he was going to conjure one, Chantal took his glass and calmly drained the rest of the cognac. She coughed a little and frowned, but then she laughed. The women at the next table kept silent again.

"I adore cognac!" Chantal declared.

"It's not the time to demonstrate your drinking abilities!"

"Order me some, please..."

"This was the last cognac of the shop."

"Fine," she sighed, "let's go out of here..."

"Are you sure you want it?"

"Of course! That's the most disgusting sweetshop in Europe. My mum's favorite one!"

The waitress came to their table and Arion gave a galleon. She was surprised by the great tip and made a movement to return the change but he shook his head. Without listening to her confused gratitude, he Levitated the trunk in the air and followed Chantal to the door. Suddenly, the suitcase opened and a comb and a bra fell on the floor, followed by a flask of perfume, two tubes of face cream, a green shawl and so on… The visitors' curiosity reached its top, some of the women even stood up to see what was happening. Now really infuriated, Arion Accioed Chantal's belongings – alone because she did not even try to help him, - locked the trunk with another spell, Levitated it in front of him and finally left the Enchanted Cakes.

Chantal was waiting for him outside, smiling broadly. "Oh, dear Morgaine! It couldn't have happened in a better way had I planned it!"

Arion was still able to hold his anger, so instead of yelling at her, he simply asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"Nothing. I'm just coming with you!"

"But that's madness!" Arion roared. "Impossible! For Merlin's sake, try to think for a moment!"

"I'm sick of thinking already!" Chantal roared back.

"Chantal, be reasonable!"

"Arion, listen to me, listen to me well! If you try to get rid of me, I'll turn the whole street upside down. I'm going to yell and bite..."

Some of the passers-by stopped and started watching at the row, looking at Arion accusingly. He felt even more confused. Suddenly, he saw three... no, wait, four... of their former classmates at Beauxbatons… Without thinking anymore, he grabbed Chantal's hand, took the handle of the trunk in his free hand and Apparated in front of his building and straight atop of Cane who was going home.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked after standing up from the ground and muttering a quick Memory spell to erase the event from the memory of the Muggles who had witnessed the appearance of two people out of nowhere.

"I wished I knew it myself," was Arion's dark answer.

Surprisingly how the roles were suddenly reversed – the ever so composed Arion was shaking with rage while the impulsive and hot-headed Cane and Arielle seemed very calm and took the situation under control. Arielle took her former roommate, who was not her friend, to the kitchen to make coffee while Cane was listening to Arion's angry explanations of what happened in the sweetshop. Finally, Arion asked his friend what he thought.

"Nothing," Cane said.

"But don't you understand the situation that I found myself in?"

"A quite normal one. I don't understand what bothers you so much."

"What would you do if you were in my place?"

"I would have let her do whatever she likes. I never thought that she was so brave. Good for her!"

"But I... I don't want to have a serious relationship or anything else right now! I am not even looking for a girlfriend!... I... I am not guilty of anything! Why did she have to come to me, of all people?..."

"Because you were the only man she knew. Think a little, for Merlin's sake! She was always a quiet one, no friends, no siblings, nothing. The guys at school liked her fine but she was so introvert that no one ever dared ask her out. You were the first friend she made at school, you worked with her for a whole year. The Lefaise family lives quite isolated, due to their pureblood pride. She doesn't have friends, neither male not female, so she focuses all her attentions on you. That's so natural..."

_The way you focus your attention on my sister_, Arion thought. "I never knew."

"That's strange. Arielle and I saw that, we thought that you knew, too, that you weren't indifferent either..."

"Me?" Arion asked, indignant.

Cane sighed. "Alright, look at the human aspect of the matter. The girl tries to resist, she doesn't want to live the way she had lived until now. Don't you want to help her and hit the pride of her parents and the others like them? Oh, by the way, I've heard that she was engaged, to a revered pureblood?"

"A real idiot!" Arion answered, and sighed. "But I'm not letting her move to my room!" he said angrily.

Cane only grinned in response.

When they went to the kitchen, they found that the girls had not only made coffee, but bought ice-cream, as well. There was a thin streak of cream on Chantal's lower lip and she licked it while Arielle said cheerfully, "Here they are! Let's have coffee and ice-cream!"

"That's it! You make a fool of me in front of everyone in Paris, you blackmail me into taking you to my flat and now you're just sitting here, drinking coffee and eating cream?" Arion bellowed at Chantal.

"Ice-cream," she corrected him.

"Chantal, stop trying to make a fool of me!" Arion shouted again. "Out!" he added to his sister and best friend. When he decided that they did not move fast enough, he picked the ice-cream box from the table and threw it through the door. Then he picked Arielle, literally, and did the same. She landed on her feet and Cane joined her outside.

"Merlin, don't you have temper!" Chantal breathed.

"Just dare smile, Chantal. Just dare!"

"But you won't let them sell me to this idiot!"

"But I don't love you!"

"I know. But I also know that you don't have another woman that you love."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I am. Oh, but maybe you think you know women?"

"No, I don't or rather, I did, but then some things happened..."

"Alright, Arion, let's talk on proper terms. As much as that hurts me, I accept that you don't love me. But you don't hate me either, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Maybe you like me more than you like the other women?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then maybe with time you could grow feelings for me?"

"_Maybe_ is no way of thinking!"

"I agree, but now this 'maybe' is a reality! I love you and you don't have other woman to love, so _maybe_ you could come to love me?"

"Too much maybes!"

"Alright. Could you make a more proper match than me?"

"Merlin, aren't you modest! Well, I'm going to give you an answer. Probably not!"

"Alright, for me the best profit would be if you fall in love with me, if you marry me and take me away from my family."

Arion found himself smiling. "And what about the least profit?"

"The least profit will be if you let me stay here. In fact, I already have the least profit. The scandal is ready to blow out. At least now I am rid of the wedding!"

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not and that's what scares me. You don't know what my parents are capable of. They are not Death Eaters but they do believe in the superiority of the magical background. They want what is best for me and that is the marriage they arranged. And I want only to love, to love my husband, my children... Is that too much to ask?"

"I'd say it's a normal thing..."

She laughed bitterly and her blue eyes darkened. "Say it to my parents."

Arion sighed. "I could but there would be no use of that, wouldn't it?"

"None," she confirmed and blinked furiously.

He gave her his handkerchief. "Okay, I'll help you. Or I'll try, at least."

"And you're going to let me stay here?

"Yes."

"And what about the complications?"

"We're going to live through them. Now, let's call your new-old roommate." He did not even raised his voice. Instead, he raised his wand. "_Alohomora_!"

The door opened suddenly and Arielle fell in the kitchen. Cane fell on top of her. "Hey, what did you do that for?" the young Metamorphmagus asked indignantly.

"For eavesdropping on my private conversations. Now, girls, you can unpack Chantal's trunk in Arielle's room."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two months later__…_

"So, we're leaving now," Arielle said. "I'm sorry I won't see Dad... Tell him that I'll visit them as soon as I come back."

"Okay. He'll understand that the Order business is prior now. Oh, and say hello to Sirius from me."

"We will," Cane promised. "Ready, Arielle?"

She nodded, they said their good-byes and left.

"So, I'm having a day off Gringots," Chantal began, "you're not having classes today, and they left. That leaves the flat at our disposal."

Arion laughed. "Are you suggesting something?"

She frowned comically. "No, Mr Lupin, how could you think such a thing about me! I only meant that we'll have time to decorate it better for Christmas before go out for a walk. Arion!" she shrieked. "Hands down! I've just got ready for our walk and now you are ruining my best efforts!"

"What efforts, you don't need any! You always look stunning. But because I want you to stay calm, you know, I'm going to kiss you without smearing your lipstick."

"Go on, smear it!" she encouraged him. "Otherwise, how am I to know that you've kissed me?"

"You will know... You will know... You did, didn't you? Now, let's go out! It's almost Christmas!"

They walked through Muggle Paris with happy and animated faces, stopping in front of every shop window. They passed by a toyshop. Suddenly, Arion stopped and looked at the toys. Chantal did the same.

"I love dolls!" she said.

"And what would you have bought if you had a boy and a girl, let's say?"

"Who, I?"

"You, of course!"

"A boy and a girl? Yours and mine? I mean, ours?"

"Well, yes. Merlin, you have no imagination!"

"You're wrong, but I don't want to argue right now. And how old are they?"

"The girl is four and the boy is two."

"Well, the girl is an easy one – the big doll there."

"And the boy – this crocodile!" Arion pointed.

"And you say that I'm the one who has no imagination..."

"Let's go inside!"

"But are you going to buy something for real?"

"Of course I will, and for real boy and girl – my little brother and my niece..."

The seller smiled politely. "Bon jour. What would you like?"

Arion felt suddenly abandoned and looked around for Chantal. "One moment, please," he said.

She had already taken one of the dolls and was inspecting it closely.

The seller turned to her. "We have really nice dolls, Madame."

"And something for a boy?" Arion asked.

"Oh, Messier, I'm so glad, so young and with two children already... That's a great combination, a boy and a girl. Which one is the eldest?"

"Oh Merlin," Arion muttered, and answered, "The girl is elder."

"How old is she?"

Arion was just about to answer, but Chantal interfered, "Oh, Madame, men never know how old their children are. Alfonse is two and Marie is four!"

She tugged Arion's sleeve when he was about to say something.

"Congratulations, Madame and Messier! Let me present the lady with this flower. She truly deserves it, giving you two children, God!"

She took a small flowerpot and gave it to Chantal who accepted it graciously. She had thrown herself into her part so fully and looked so sincere that the stunned Arion started wondering whether Alfonse and Marie were the reality itself.

"It's Alfonse's birthday today!" Chantal announced, and Arion made an enormous effort to stifle his laughter.

"Well," he said after they left the shop with as many packets and boxes as they could carry, "now we know that the Muggle world lost one of its brightest movie stars when you were born a witch." And then he finally burst out laughing, dropping two boxes on the snowy ground. Chantal knelt and took them.

"What's wrong with you?"

"When we are back home, Alfonse will be crying his head off and Marie will have set the flat on fire..."

Chantal shook her head. "You're wrong, my dear. Marie is very good and she is my support, and Alfonse finds the night-pot on his own..."

"Does he, really?... Since when?..."

They were walking in the streets of Paris, happy and carefree, for once forgetting the treat that Voldemort posed, just grateful for the snow, for Christmas, for their little play in the toyshop, and for being young and in love. "Before Christmas, I want you to meet my parents," Arion said suddenly and smiled. A brilliant smile answered him.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Later this evening…._

Anthony's screams of joy filled the whole house in Lyon. Looking at him, Pamela Lupin saw that Arion was holding him in his favorite position – with his head down. Elle was standing next to them, waiting impatiently for her turn to be held.

It was impossible not to smile at the children's joyous faces, and Pamela did not even try. Her son adored Arion and so did Eleanor. Unfortunately, that meant that they were both too excited to sleep easily. "You two, leave Arion alone and go to sleep already!" she cried over her shoulder.

The children protested in a loud voice – and so did Arion. Pamela laughed quietly and went to do the dishes with her wand. It was always nice to see how kind Arion was with the kids – but then, he'd always been kind, since the day Raymond had brought him to her for examination five years ago. The day she had fallen in love with Raymond.

Pamela still remembered that day and the pale, calm boy that his father had brought to her and that was, in fact, far from calm. Arion had been deeply shaken by the tragedy that had sent his brother to St Mungo's with a lifelong damage and even more by the fact that it had happened right in front of him but he could not remember it because someone had placed a Memory Charm on him. Raymond had waited patiently for the examination to take place and then had come to talk to her and there'd been such fear in his eyes... That was the moment she had fallen in love with him – because of the great love and concern he felt for his son. Yet, she had never expected to actually date him. He'd been married then, with three children and a grandchild to be born soon, but Sylvie had made it impossible for them to live with her. _I have no right to condemn her_, Pamela thought and her eyes searched for the familiar form of Anthony. _She's a mother who lost her son in the most terrible way_. Still, she could not understand the woman. _She still had Raymond and the children, but she alienated them, and at the end, she was the only one who lost, and I gained a profit. I have a husband, I have a child, I have stepchildren who love me and she – she has nothing. _Yes, Pamela was a happy woman. Deep in her heart, she knew that Raymond did not love her the way she loved him but she did not care. Once, she had, but no longer. Raymond was always gentle with her, he enjoyed her presence in bed and out of it, and was always generous. Since they'd married, he'd showered her with presents – jewels, pictures, precious antiques and furniture for their new house.

She was still looking at the children playing with Arion and smiled, thinking of her stepdaughter Anath who would come home from Beauxbatons in five days. Pamela reminded herself to buy the girl's favorite biscuits and started planning the holidays again. Arion had told them that he would bring his girlfriend to meet them the day after Christmas. Pamela had to make sure that the house was presentable enough but that was hard with two children who created havoc all the time. Still, she had to try. She thought that she would surely like Arion's girl. Chantal Lefaise should be something, to say 'no' to her parents like that. And – Alfonse and Marie! The girl had quite the imagination, if Arion could be trusted and he could. Pamela shook her head and was just about to offer hot chocolate to everyone when she heard the knock at the door.

"Who might it be at this time?" Raymond muttered with a worried voice.

"Maybe Arielle and Cane are back earlier," she supposed, but her husband shook his head.

"No," he said hoarsely, "they aren't."

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_The next morning__…_

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Twenty years spent as an Auror had taught Sylvie Saint Claire to wake up instantly when she heard disturbing sounds. She stood up immediately. Pierre Brazierre was already wake and they dressed in seconds, not wasting time to look at each other.

When Sylvie opened the door and saw her boss, the Head of the Auror's Service, standing outside with a solemn expression, she felt like losing the floor under her feet. She had seen this expression on his face only on few occasions, and she knew what he was going to tell her – that something awful had happened. Next to him stood Reynald Dubois – a colleague and a friend. She saw the dry white tracks lining his face. He had wept.

"Sylvie," her boss began carefully, "there was an accident last night."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Julian Black could say the exact moment when their Potion Master had entered the classroom because the whispers caused by his being late, suddenly stopped. Then, instead of telling them to open their textbooks, the teacher spoke, for everyone's surprise, directly to Anath. "Mademoiselle Lupin," he said, "you have to go to the Headmistress' study."

Something in his Professor's voice told Julian that everything was not right, and without thinking, he stood up and took Anath's hand.

The Potion Master did not say anything about detention, though. Actually, what Julian heard instead, was, "Yes, Messier Black, it would be fine if you go with her."

The only sound the two of them made while walking to the study, was the clicking of Julian's stick. Finally, they reached the study and Julian could say that Madame Maximme's voice sounded quite shakily when she said, "Maybe you should sit down, Mademoiselle Lupin."

-–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Is it true?"

Sirius Black rubbed his eyes that were still heavy with sleep. Bill Weasley's face looked worried, the red-head looked at him impatiently and repeated, "Is it true?"

"What?"

Now, when he was not so sleepy, Sirius saw that Fleur Delacour's face was very pale and her eyes were huge with horror, but she still managed to keep herself under control. The couple had barged in only a minute ago.

"Hadn't you heard yet?" Bill asked. "We thought that maybe Dumbledore knew something, that's why we came."

"What happened?"

The young man handed Sirius the last copy of some French wizard newspaper. The picture of a stretcher being carried outside a nice old house covered half of the front page. Sirius looked at the article and felt his face losing all colour.

_Last night, there was an attack over the house of Raymond and Pamela Lupin. It was obviously planned as a robbery, but it ended up tragically. It seems that Raymond and Pamela Lupin offered resistance but could not defend themselves properly, since Madame Lupin's body was found in the dining room and Raymond __Lupin was sent to Saint Lazarre's with a danger for his life." _Sirius flipped a few lines and then saw the one that made him gasp with horror. _"The two children, Anthony and Eleanor Lupin, were found unharmed but the nineteen year old Arion Lupin who was in the program for Auror Training was found dead in the house. Obviously Arion Lupin was visiting his father when the attack..."_

Sirius closed his eyes and thought about Remus who was still on a patrol duty, about Arielle and Cane who were sleeping on the second floor – how would he tell them that horrible news?

Maybe it was not true. Not everything that the newspapers reported was true, one needed only to read Daily Prophet to be sure of that. But then, Dumbledore came in and said that it was true. Now, Fleur started weeping and Bill led her to the other room and tried to comfort her. Finally, they left because Fleur still had to be at work at nine o'clock.

Cane entered the kitchen half an hour later and the look in Sirius' eyes told him that something had gone horribly wrong. "What happened?" he asked.

"Maybe you should sit down," Sirius said.

Cane felt that something important had happened, so he obeyed without questions. "What happened?" he asked again.

Sirius had decided to tell him gradually, to soften the blow as much as he could, but now, under Cane's worried look, he could do nothing but say it straight. "I'm sorry, Cane. Arion is dead. He was..."

He could not finish that phrase, because suddenly, he found his mouth full of blood. His face only inches away from Sirius', Cane rubbed hid palm which hurt terribly by the quick, impulsive blow, and shouted, "Liar. How dare you?..."

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16


	14. The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. What a pity...**

_To everyone who has reviewed: thank you! To everyone who had not: why not?_

Chapter 14

Pale and shaken, Cane sat on the sofa and began reading the article. Sirius was looking at him with concern, but after his initial outburst of disbelief, now Cane looked quite composed. He read every word in the article and Sirius saw his lips trembling a few times while reading about Pamela's death and Raymond's serious injury. Then his eyes became even more intent, if that was possible, and Sirius knew that he had reached the part of the article regarding Arion. He bit his lower lip so hard that a streak of blood trickled on his cheek but he did not seem to notice.

"Hello," Harry said, entering the room.

"Good morning," Sirius answered, and Harry looked at him with surprise. "What happened to you? There's blood on your face."

"Is there? Oh." Sirius shrugged. "I suppose it didn't occur to me to wipe it off."

"But what happened?"

"I discovered at first hand that my son does have an amazing straight one."

Harry blinked. "Cane hit you?"

Sirius did not answer immediately. His eyes went to Cane who had just finished the article and was now sitting with his head lowered, looking blankly at the rug.

"But how could he?" Harry was amazed, not only by Cane's actions but also by Sirius' lack of action._ Is he going to let him just get away with it? _Even for a loving father, that was too much.

"He's upset."

"_He_ is not deaf," Cane interrupted him coldly, "so _he'll_ be glad if the two of you don't talk about _him_ like _he_ is not in the same room."

Harry looked at him, surprised by his sudden malice. Sirius, however, understood better. The fear and unwillingness to accept what had happened that Cane felt now would explode on the people who were in the same room – Sirius and Harry. _I am the same_, Sirius thought; _he's really taken too much after me_. He did not care about Cane being rude to him or even to Harry, all he cared about was that Cane was suffering – _suffering_. He turned to his godson. "Arion Lupin is dead, Harry."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," Cane said again. "Sirius, I don't want to hear you saying that never, ever again. All we know is that they found a body – a burned body. A body that I want to see by myself!"

"I understand," Sirius said. "But..."

Cane interrupted him. "No, you don't. That body that they found – it might not be Arion at all."

"I know how you feel..." Sirius began, suddenly remembering the awful night all those years ago, jumping off the motorbike and rushing to the ruined house only to see James lying near the threshold, his eyes closed, his face so pale...

"No," Cane said. "You don't know. You saw the body, Sirius! You saw James' body!" A sudden guilt crossed his mind because speaking about James' body in front of Harry might not be the most tactful thing he'd ever done in his life, but this thought faded almost instantly. Only Arion mattered. "And now, we don't know. Arion might have escaped during the fight. He might have Disapparated or something. We simply don't know whether the burned body there is his or not!"

"What body?"

Cane froze. His mouth opened but no words came out.

"What body?" Arielle repeated and crossed the room to him. She wore tight jeans and a yellow jumper that made her look smaller and somehow more vulnerable. Her hair was neatly combed, her skin shining – she looked so innocent. How could he tell her that her twin brother was – what? Dead? Disappeared? In less than a minute, it became unnecessary because she grabbed the newspaper from his hands and looked at it, her eyes flying over the words and her face losing its colour. The other three did not dare to say anything and just looked at her helplessly.

"Merlin, a danger to his life," she finally said. "What on earth does that mean?"

"The Healers at St Lazarre knows their remedies, Arielle," Cane said in a soft voice. "I'm sure Uncle will be fine."

She nodded. "Do you think the others know already?"

"Your mother should have been told for certain and I imagine that they had sent word to Anath too."

Arielle nodded again. "I should go there immediately."

She stood up and folded the newspaper, clearly intending to leave it on the table but she did not do it. Her self-control suddenly crumbled to dust. Her hands began shaking and she dropped the newspaper on the carpet.

The three men watched in fascinated horror as Arielle fell to the floor and cried out loud. Her cry did not resemble a human voice at all – it was more like an animalistic howl that filled the whole house, awakening Mrs Black's portrait and causing everyone to hurry and check what was going on. The children were still in their nightclothes and Ron was rubbing his sleepy eyes. Hermione gasped horrified and Ginny made a step backwards, suddenly afraid of the sight of the other girl who was wallowing on the floor in convulsions that did not obey her will anymore. Then, Arielle started hitting her head on the floor, her nails dug deeply into her own skin, drawing blood. Her howl turned into words: "That's not true!"

"She's gone mad!" Hermione whispered fearfully.

"No, she just suffered a great shock," Sirius told her in a low voice.

Cane went to Arielle and extended his arms, intending to calm her, but she jumped aside. Not daring to touch her, Cane just looked at her helplessly.

Strangely, but the only one who could react properly was Fred, who was the last to come in after having the portrait silenced – he knelt next to Arielle and seized her in his arms, thus preventing her from hurting herself on the floor. Her hands flew away from her face and reached for his, but Fred caught them and pressed them to her sides. Still, he did not dare to talk to her.

Suddenly, Arielle stiffened in his arms and sighed deeply, her body relaxing. "Let me go."

He hesitated. "I won't do anything stupid," she added in a hoarse voice.

Fred hesitated again, but then released his grasp of her. Arielle stood up and looked at Cane. "Where is Uncle?" Her voice was perfectly calm and after what had happened mere moments ago, that seemed frightening.

"He had a shift at the Ministry last night. He hasn't come back yet," Cane answered, barely noticing the others leaving – all except for Sirius.

"Ah, yes," she remembered. "I... I have to go. Are you going to come with me?"

He nodded. "Yes, Arielle, I will. I'll come to your room and help you get your things."

"Neither of you is going anywhere."

Cane looked at Sirius and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

Everyone else took that as a cue to leave the room and the gathering storm, until Sirius was left alone with Cane and Arielle. Again, she seemed so dazed that she had lost any idea of her surroundings.

"Yes, really," Sirius said. "Look at yourselves. Neither of you is capable of thinking straight right now."

"And since when is Sirius Black so fond of thinking straight?" Cane asked mockingly. "Come on, Arielle, we're going to your room."

"You aren't going anywhere," Sirius said firmly. "Not until you've composed yourselves. I am sure Arion would not want for you two to get in trouble because of him – just like James and Lily wouldn't want it for me."

Cane's eyes flashed dangerously. "Would you mind not comparing Arion to your precious James and Lily?" he asked, voice strangely controlled. "Would you mind not stick them in my face, just this once?"

"I… I just thought… I don't understand…"

"Yes, that much is clear," Cane agreed. "Here we go again, to the very same moment we always get here, in Britain. My favourite one! Every conversation of something bad happening to people in a war always leads to the good, noble and so on James and Lily who were so brave in their sacrifice, so caring for their friends and just the goodness and sympathy personified. I expect that they'll get canonized in a year or so." He shook his head. "Well, they did cause a great misfortune to a frog eater or two – big deal! There was a head that has been messed up a little for some fifteen years, these guys also have families and friends who mourn… it doesn't matter. What matters is only never to forget how wonderful people dear James and Lily were… Merlin, I constantly hear it from even Remus!"

Sirius stared at him, totally dumbstruck. What was he talking about? What had ever James and Lily done to him? What was this story about frog eaters and messed up heads?

"Compose yourself," he said again.

Cane laughed mirthlessly. "Compose myself, what a joke coming from your mouth. But maybe it isn't a joke at all, eh? Maybe I keep forgetting that Sirius Black is the only one allowed to freak out when something like that happens to _his_ best friend, all others should be composed."

That made it for Sirius who had managed to suppress his temper until now. He took a deep breath, tried to keep his nerves and failed. "Yes! That's it! I did freak out and great good it did to us all, didn't it?" he finally exploded. "For your own good I hope that you haven't taken after me this much, Cane, I pray for that. Is it my life that you want to repeat? Tell me, son! Acting blinded by your grief and anger, without thinking, thus letting talentless people get the better of you? Losing everyone that you care for? Losing thirteen years of your life? Losing your youth in prison?" He grabbed Cane by the shoulders and shook him. "Is that what you want? Because that is not what I want. That's exactly what I don't want, stupid boy! And you're so bloody well on your way to achieve all this." Without releasing his grip on Cane's shoulders, he dragged him to the mirror and angrily pointed at his own image. "Is that who you want to be? Answer me! And look well! Look at yourself, Cane Black, and then look at your father!"

Cane pushed Sirius' hands off his shoulders. "Don't worry," he said, "I won't freak out. Arion might be my best friend, but he is not the only one who matters. There are people, who define their happiness according to mine. I can't fail them by acting on impulse."

Sirius winced and lowered his gaze. "That was cruel."

"Yes, I deliberately wanted to hurt you. I thought that might help me feel better."

"Did it?"

"No."

"You aren't going to do anything stupid, right?"

Cane shook his head. "Not with you here like a bloody watchdog." But his voice had lost its previous anger, it now held only weariness. "I'll wait for Remus."

Sirius nodded. "Good. Do you want something? Can I do something for you?"

"No. Come on, Arielle, come with me."

He took her hand and led her out of the room, his head held high. Sirius sighed – he still could not believe that Arion was dead and he felt do sorry for Cane and Arielle. _A robbery, you're telling me! It was the Death Eaters, with or without the Dark Mark. Poor Arion, he was so young. And Pamela, and even Raymond, when he wakes up. If he wakes up. _Sirius sighed again and started waiting for Remus._ Two have already been told and that leaves one yet_.

His friend came back an hour later and by the look in his eyes, Sirius could say that he already knew. Remus' face was very pale but he seemed calm. Of course, Sirius knew that he was far from that.

"Is it true?" was the first question Remus asked.

"Dumbledore says so."

Remus' lips trembled but he managed to stay composed. "Does Arielle know?"

"Yes, I already told her. Cane knows, too."

"How are they?"

"In shock."

Remus nodded. "Are they still here?"

"They wanted to go there immediately, but I managed to convince them to wait for you."

"Good. I'll take them to Paris now. My parents should have heard about it by now, I think, but I'd appreciate it if you send them an owl, just in case they don't know yet."

"Alright."

'Thank you. I'll go to the children now."

And he started towards the door, his gait slow and his shoulders hunched.

"Moony?" Sirius said, and Remus turned his head and looked at him.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

Remus' eyes softened. "I know."

_A few hours later…_

Sylvie rubbed her eyes in a tired motion. All those people. Healers and people that she did not know kept looking stealthily at her and whispering. She supposed that the news about Arion and Raymond had already spread among the wizard society in France. There certainly had been more than enough time for that – ten hours. Ten hours and she knew nothing about Raymond. And Arion…

Arion. Her son was dead. He was dead, because he had been visiting his father. How could he be dead? He had promised to come and see her two days later. _I suppose I'll have to cancel our reservation for his favorite Muggle restaurant,_ she thought, feeling how stupid that seemed, worrying over such insignificant thing when Arion was dead. _How can he be dead_?

"Sylvie…"

She looked at the old man who had come to her, holding a glass in his hand. She nodded and drained it. "Thank you, Didier."

The Head of Saint Lazarre's nodded, wondered briefly whether he should express his sympathy about Arion and decided against it. His trained eye caught her complete exhaustion and nervousness. The faintest touch of sympathy could make her fall apart. He shook his head. _What a tragedy_. He's known her for years – since Raymond had started working at the hospital a year before the end of the first war.

The first war. _Are we in a new war now_, he wondered. He had not believed Raymond's words about You Know Who's return but he had to admit that the attack on his colleague's house had made him think twice of that possibility. _A robbery, the papers say. Personally I'd find burglars who kill the owners of the house and then steal almost nothing to be really strange burglars. No need to say, I've never seen thieves who leave such injuries as those we're trying to heal Raymond from. I can't believe it's a mere coincidence_. _And poor Arion is dead._

He sighed. _Arion_. The nice, kind boy he'd known since his early childhood. Since Raymond and Sylvie both worked hard, it had not been uncommon for the hospital staff to see the Lupin children here for a whole day when their parents had not succeeded to find a babysitter. They had become used to having them around. Arion. _He was going to become twenty in a few days,_ Didier thought. Honestly, it was one thing after another in that family, and it had happened in a few years only. First, John's accident. Then, Arielle's bite – how on earth had the girl survived was beyond Didier. He himself had been in the team that had worked on her after she had been bitten and no one had believed that she would make it. Then, the divorce and now, that.

"How is he, Didier?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Sylvie – it's too early to say just yet. I really don't know. I'm sorry."

"What are the injuries?"

"They are still examining him. In best case scenario, he'll have a concussion of the brain that could be healed with time and rest."

"What about the worst case scenario?"

He paused. "He'll be a living corpse."

Sylvie pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes growing wide. _Not this. Not again. Merlin, not again!_ She wanted to scream.

He left and she looked at the children who were sitting silently on the sofa in the other end of the waiting room. Anath met her mother's gaze and attempted a brave smile, but Sylvie could say that it was all act. Anath was just as sad and shocked as she herself was, maybe even more. _I grieve for Arion and I'm afraid for Raymond's life but she grieves for Pamela, too_. Raymond's second wife was the woman who's been taking care of Anath for three years; it was only natural for the girl to mourn her.

"Mum?"

Hearing Arielle's voice, Sylvie turned around and threw her arms around her daughter. "Oh Merlin, Arielle, how are you?"

"Is it true, Mum?"

Sylvie found that she did not have the strength to say it. She only nodded and then looked helplessly at the tears that started forming in her daughter's eyes. She tried to hug her again, but this time Arielle swatted her mother's arms away. "I do not believe it," she said firmly. "He's not dead, he can't be dead. I don't believe it."

"Arielle…"

"He's not dead," Arielle said again, fiercely, and angrily wiped her eyes. "I would have felt it if he were. He might have looked dead, but he isn't."

Sylvie wanted so badly to believe her. She sounded so sure and Sylvie knew how deep the bond between her twins ran; yet, she could not dare to believe those words; she had believed that John would be okay, oh had she ever, and that had made the final accepting of the truth even more harder. She could not do it again.

"Mum? How is Dad?"

Arielle seemed to be expecting the answer with the mixed feeling of hope and fear and the same thing applied to Remus and Cane who had came with her.

"Too early to say."

Cane looked at the two women and then whispered to Remus in a low voice, "I have to go. I have something to take care for."

_Two hours later…_

The old official looked with interest at the young man and woman in front of him. The boy looked like a mass of barely restrained nerves and the girl was probably a great beauty, although it was hard to say with her puffed eyes and pale face. Even before the boy opened his mouth, he knew what he was going to hear.

"I am Cane Black and this is Chantal Lefaise. We're here to identify Arion Lupin's body."

"Yes, the owl that warned me about you being permitted to do the identification came here minutes ago. But I have to warn you that it would be of no use. The body has been burned so severely that you could not recognize it."

"We have to do it, though," Cane said in a firm voice. "We insist."

"Fine, but I warn you, it's a horrible thing to see."

The morgue was a cold and repulsing place. Cane felt Chantal's hand clutching his more tightly and then the official pulled a piece of cloth aside. The girl took a deep breath but when Cane tried to support her weight, she pushed his arm away and made a step towards the table where the corpse was lying, and it turned out that her face could become even paler than before. This time, when Cane grabbed her and helped her to stay upright, she seized his hand without looking away from the body.

And then the official saw something unimaginable. The boy – Black, right? – did the most awful thing one could do in such a room – he laughed. The official, of course, knew it was only a reaction of his nerves, but nevertheless, it seemed inappropriate.

"Messier Black! Please control yourself. I know it's an awful shock for you and you have my deep sympathy, but yet…"

"Shut up!" the girl cut in, in a hard voice, vibrating from relief and anger. "This isn't Arion."

_The poor girl must have gone mad with grief._ Well, if she had had an affair with the dead boy, it was completely understandable. "Mademoiselle, my condolences. I know it must be very hard for you to face the reality but such a delusion won't help you…"

"Hold your jaw!" Cane said fiercely. "Didn't you hear her? Find another family to give your condolences to because this isn't Arion."

"Messier, I…"

"Oh stop it!" Chantal said angrily. "Dear Morgaine, man, I _live_ with the guy. I should know how he looks without his clothes." She pointed at the corpse. "This definitely isn't Arion, so stop your oration."

"Messier Black, you should…"

"You should notice that his _whole_ face has been burnt," Cane interjected, "as if that has been done on purpose to make the identification harder. I've shared a dormitory with Arion Lupin for seven years and I've seen him undressing more than enough times to say that it is not him. I'll talk to your boss right now. Oh, and just a moment." He pulled the sign with the name _Arion Lupin_ on it that was floating above the table, and left the morgue, holding Chantal by the hand.

"I know it's awful to cheer for someone's death," Chantal whispered once they were out, "but I'm so happy that it isn't Arion."

Cane nodded, because he felt the same way. "Now, we know for sure that he is alive. We only have to find him. Whoever this poor fellow is, he has nothing to do with us."

_Eleven__ hours later…_

White walls, white ceiling. Where was he? What had happened? He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate but to no avail.

Then, a cool hand touched his hot cheek – _hot_? _Have I taken a shower in hell or what_?

"Sylvie," he sighed without opening his eyes.

"How are you?" she asked in a soft voice. "No, no, don't try to speak, I see that you're tired."

"Sylvie, what happened?"

"Nothing important," she said, and he felt that she was lying but he was too weary to open his eyes and look at her, inquiring the truth. Instead, he started thinking aloud in a low voice.

"I lost something," he whispered. "Maybe it was an arm or a leg because I don't seem capable of moving." He was too exhausted to let this perspective worry him. "Or maybe my documents because I can't remember even my own name; or maybe it was… my son!"

The last two words came out as a breathless whisper, as his eyes opened and the memories suddenly came back to him: the dinner, the laughter, then the sudden knock and the battle, and the curse that had hit Arion, and how he had rushed to him, hoping against hope that…

"Oh Merlin! Arion! What happened to him?"

Sylvie lowered her head and fell silent. "Sylvie! What happened? How is he?"

"He's alive," Sylvie said hurriedly, but she could not stop the tears that started forming in her eyes. "He's alive."

"Then why are you crying? Where is he? I want to see him."

"We... we don't know. They're… looking for him."

Nothing on earth could make her tell him about the article that had proclaimed their son dead.

"And the others? What about Pamela and the children?"

"The children are okay," Sylvie assured him.

"And Pamela?"

She did not answer.

"Is she… is she dead?"

"I'm sorry," Sylvie whispered.

Raymond fell silent for a while. "No," he finally said, "you aren't."

Everyone felt relieved with the news that Raymond was going to live. Now, it was time to take care of other things. Raymond's parents unanimously insisted that Sylvie should go home and take a rest. They were going to stay at the hospital the whole night and she could come again the next morning. Cane took Arielle to their flat and Remus promised to take care of the elder children, so he led Anath, Julian and Morgaine at the house that Raymond had once shared with Sylvie; after their divorce, they had both moved out. So, Sylvie was left to deal with the two youngest children – Eleanor and Anthony. The two-year-old boy was so tired that he had practically fallen asleep a few hours earlier.

Sylvie scooped him in her arms, took Elle by the hand and led her out of the hospital, where she Apparated all three of them in the street next to her flat. It was late in the night and she felt like her head would explode from all the events that had happened during the last twenty-four hours. Most of all, there was joy, because it was not her son who had been killed. _It was someone else's poor child,_ she thought, and she could not help but feel awful at feeling happy at that expense of someone else's grief. Then, there was the fear about where Arion was now and whether he was fine or not; her worry about Raymond and the effect that all this would have on her children; and finally, came the irony that she could not miss even in her poor current state – the fact that she had to take care of Pamela's son now, when she had always showed unwillingness to even see the boy.

The walk to her flat cleared her head and she felt somehow more composed. She entered the block and was genuinely surprised when she saw who was waiting for her in front of her flat – Mr and Mrs Frederick – their neighbours from their previous home. They were Muggles, but they knew about the wizard world – it was hard not to when one day Mrs Frederick had been babysitting for seven year old John and saw his pen writing his homework by itself. She and Raymond had been very grateful for having such nice neighbours – always willing to help, especially with babysitting. Sylvie knew why they were here and that touched her deeply.

"I hope you haven't been waiting for too long," she whispered, removing the protective wards and entering her flat. They followed her. For a moment, she considered the perspective of going to the kitchen and fetch them something to drink but than decided that she was too tired for that.

"Is it true?" Mrs Frederick asked fearfully and Sylvie noticed the traces of tears on her face.

"No, it's not," she said firmly. "The body that they found – it wasn't Arion at all."

The elderly couple beamed with relief. "But where is he?" the man asked.

"We… we don't know," Sylvie admitted. "We're looking for him."

"And what about Raymond and his wife?"

"Raymond is out of danger," she smiled, and then her smile faded. "But I'm afraid that his wife is gone."

"Oh. Is that her son?" Mr Frederick asked.

"Yes. I suppose I'm going to take care of him for a while," Sylvie said in a tired voice, and this answer surprised her – only two days earlier she had preferred to pretend that the kid did not exist at all! But then, she supposed it had something to do with the fact that he was so young. He was a child – Raymond's child, just like her own children. _Pamela's son, and she'll never see him growing up_. Sylvie noticed with surprise that she felt none of her usual hatred towards the other woman. _After all, she did not steal Raymond and the children from me – I drove them away_, Sylvie thought. _You are ready to sacrifice all we have for something that isn't there anymore_, Raymond had shouted at her during one of their final battles. He was speaking of her inability to overcome the tragedy with John, of course. But he and the children had overcome it with a lot of Pamela's help. _Yes, I'll give you that much, Pamela, and I would have you given you even more if I could. I wish I had told you something when I had the chance. It was… well, I wanted to say 'thank you'. You've been taking such a good care of my kids that I want you to know – I don't hate you at all. I hated you once but not now. I'm really much obliged to you._ Of course, it was too late to say it. _That's my problem_, Sylvie thought bitterly, _I'm always too late_.

_Two days later__…_

"Any news?" Cane asked as soon as they entered the flat.

Chantal shook her head. All their investigations were leading to dead ends. Arion seemed to have vanished into thin air. _Arielle and Cane are soon going to vanish, too, if they don't start eating regularly; they're looking like corpses themselves_, she thought. _I suppose I look the same way._

She almost asked how the funeral had been but then felt how ridiculous such a question would be. _Oh, and by the way, did you have a good time this morning? Yes, Chantal, thank you, it was the greatest funeral ever._ She sighed. "How are you?" she asked instead.

Cane smiled darkly, directing Arielle to the sofa. "Sit here," he said and the redhead did as she was told, moving like a doll. Chantal saw the tears that were still spilling from her eyes. Well, Arielle's twin brother was still missing, the stepmother that she loved had been buried today, and her father was too ill to attend the funeral. These were all good reasons to cry.

"What are you doing, Cane?" she asked when he began opening the cabinets in the kitchen one after the other.

"Searching," he answered, without interrupting his work.

She did not understand. "Searching for what?"

He looked at her for a brief moment and then resumed his systematical checking of the contents of the cabinets. "Firewiskey. Brandy. Cognac."

Sirius came a few hours later, using the Portkey that was kept in the Headquarters – every member of the Order was obliged to provide a Portkey to his home that should be used by emergency. Actually, Sirius was not sure the current situation could be described as emergency, but he had to come nevertheless, just to know for sure that Cane was all right.

He wasn't.

They were all in the living room – Cane, Arielle and a girl and a guy Sirius did not know. The girl was probably Arion's girlfriend – he had heard the story of her inviting herself to live with Arion. Who else would be in their lat at that moment, looking dead to the world? She was lying on the carpet, sleeping – or maybe just passed out, reeking of Firewhiskey. Cane was spread on the sofa, his head and the upper part of his body dangling through the armrest in a manner that made Sirius think that his guardian angel must be made of pure gold – otherwise Cane would have fallen on the floor instead of sleeping and reeking like a brewery.

The blond-haired boy Sirius did not know had passed out in a chair, his head on the table. Arielle was sitting on the floor, leaning against the coach for support. Unlike the other two, she was still awake, though her shining eyes indicated that it would not last long. Seeing Sirius, she smiled a ridiculously wide smile and waved at him with the bottle she could still, by some miracle, keep upright in her hand. "Hello, Sirius," she said in a voice that sounded so normal that he would have thought she was completely sober if not for her shining eyes and the smell that emanated from her, including the smell of the brandy that she had obviously spilled all over her white blouse. "Want some?" she asked at looked at the bottle. "It's cognac."

"No, thanks," he answered.

"You sure? It's good cognac."

"I'm sure that it is but I think you lot have already had more than enough."

"More than enough?" the girl asked, amazed. "How could it be more than enough if I am not drunk?"

"But you are," Sirius said helpfully.

She frowned. "I am?"

"Yes, you are."

"I am drunk?"

"Very drunk," he nodded, looked around the room and saw the three bottles that lied around.

"Then, if I am very drunk, how could I be not drunk enough?"

"Why would you think you're not drunk enough?"

She favored him with an irritated glance. "Because I still remember and I got drunk in order to forget."

"Ah. Alright, go to bed and I promise that you're going to forget."

"Promise?" she asked suspiciously.

"I promise."

"Fine, but I don't want to get undressed, I'm so tired…"

"Okay, no undressing. Just go to your room and lie down, and I'll come in a short time to tuck you in."

"Alright."

He helped her to her feet and after she left, he Levitated Chantal to a bedroom that he hoped was her own, placed her on the bed and threw a blanket over her. Then, he checked on Arielle, took care of wrapping her in a blanket, too, and returned in the living room. He tried to move the blond-haired boy, but he made a disgruntled sound and Sirius let him be, slumped against the table. Then he went to Cane who was still sleeping. He thought of Levitating him, too, but then changed his mind. Instead, he scooped him in his arms and took him to the other bedroom – it was one of the very few times when he had the chance to actually touch his son. He undressed him and placed him on his bed, tucking him in. After a while, out of a sudden impulse, he changed and Padfoot sat on his haunches next to the bed, watching Cane.

Who, all of a sudden, stirred and his eyes flickered open. Sirius froze but Cane only smiled sleepily. "Snuffles," he whispered and moved in bed, making a space where the dog could fit comfortably. Without thinking, Padfoot jumped on the bed and snuggled next to Cane just like he had used to do all those years ago. Two arms wrapped themselves around him and a face pressed against his fur made him feel happy and content, like he had been when he had slept in Cane's bed as Snuffles ages ago. Oh, he knew that when Cane awoke and become sober, it would end; but for now, he decided to enjoy the experience as long as it would last.

18


	15. Behind the Veil

_Hello, I'm here again__. Thanks for all your kind reviews – both old and new ones!_

**Disclaimer: Should I repeat myself again? Of course I own nothing!**

Chapter 15

_A few months later__…_

Sylvie sighed and shot the report that was lying on her desk, an angry glare. Nothing made her angrier than being forced to work on some stupid reports about old ladies who had let themselves being detected by their Muggle neighbours while watering their plants with magic while they had much more serious issues to deal with. _Voldemort is back and we are doing our best not to see it,_ she thought angrily. _The next thing I know will be that my colleagues and I could be sent to arrest the poor woman who tried to heal her dog with a spell_. All this while Voldemort and his Death Eaters were roaming freely. _Nothing on earth could have me convinced that the attack on Raymond's home was a coincidence. Merlin, where is Arion now?_ Six months, and there was still no trace of her son. Not that the Ministry truly believed that he was alive – according to them, Arion's girlfriend had just lost her mind with grief and the same applied to Cane Black. Only a few colleagues of Sylvie's believed them and had started searching for Arion but to no avail. _I won't give up, though, _she thought,_ I can't._

Angrily, she stood up and left the room. The stupid report surely could wait until morning? _I'm tired and I want to go home._ It was only that she knew for sure what she had in her fridge – three eggs and a cheese sandwich, so she decided to visit the Ministry kitchen before taking her leave. Damn it, she missed Pierre's cooking. She had never learned to do the house-work the magical way – as a girl, she had always had house-elves to do it for her and later, when she had met Raymond, she had been taught to cook and clean by her Muggle mother in-law. True, in time she had developed some aptitude in cleaning and washing spells, but she was hopeless when it came to cooking. And since the divorce, she had not had any desire to cook for one.

Pierre was a great chef – one of his many talents. Too bad that they had been careless and some of their colleagues had started suspecting about their relationship. Such things were strictly forbidden in the Auror Headquarters and one of them should have left, but they loved their work too much, so they had sacrificed the relationship.

Of course, if it had been Raymond, Sylvie would have rather cut the job…

She was just passing by the closed door of the Department of Mysteries when she heard a strange, unfamiliar sound. She stopped and frowned, trying to decipher what it meant but could think of anything. Meanwhile, the noise had become louder and showed no signs of abating. Sylvie could not just go on her way without knowing what was going on.

"_Alohomora_!" she yelled and entered the room with her wand ready.

There was nothing disturbing. If fact, there was nobody at all. _Someone has slipped off their duties at this Department_, Sylvie thought, because she knew that until the newest project of the Ministry – a veil that was supposed to be a door to other dimensions, a replica of the one that existed in Britain – was finished, there should be always someone present in the room, in case that the Veil started to behave in a strange way. The way it behaved now, in fact, for Sylvie was sure that the strange noise of a raging sea was coming from the Veil itself. After a brief hesitation, she stepped next to it and gingerly removed the thin black cloth.

The noise was about to make her deaf, but she did not hold back. Instead, she bent forwards, very careful not to fall, because she had no desire to get acquainted with death itself. "What's going on?" she shouted. "Is someone in there?"

The noise grew even louder, accompanied by the shifting of air inside the Veil which seemed to be trying to drag her in. Sylvie placed her hands firmly on the floor beside her and shouted again, "What's going on?"

A possible answer came to her – an answer that said that maybe Voldemort and his Death Eaters had something to do with it. She was just about to rise and call for someone, when the shifting became stronger than ever, and then something pushed her back and left her lying next to the suddenly calm Veil.

She immediately jumped to her feet, held her wand tighter and pointed it at the enemy who was lying dazed a few inches away from her…

… And who was not an enemy at all.

"Sirius," Sylvie sighed but she did not lower her wand. It could be anyone, including a Death Eater who had taken the shape of Sirius Black.

Sirius blinked and tried to stand up but failed. "Sylvie? What happened?"

"I think it should be me asking that question," she said coldly. "Give me a proof that you are Sirius Black."

He shot her a disbelieving look. "You want me to prove that I am me?" he asked. "Merlin's beard, Sylvie, that's…"

"Stay where you are!" she said firmly and he froze, after finally being able to stand up. "I will not hesitate to use this if you make as much as a single step."

He looked at her wand and remembered that she was known to be one of the best Aurors in France. Which was more, Mad-Eye Moody, who had once trained her, seemed to have a high opinion about her skills and Moody was not that type of person who gave his approval easily. So, Sirius did not make a step.

"What kind of proof do you want?" he asked instead.

"The real Sirius Black would know what I'm talking about."

_Of course_. Sirius nodded curtly and for a brief moment, he transformed into the big bear-like dog. "Pleased?"

Sylvie lowered her wand. "Let's get out of here, because someone might have heard the noise coming from the Veil and might come to check what happened."

The Veil. Sirius suddenly remembered that he had fallen through the Veil. Now, everything came back to him – Snape's call, rushing to the Ministry to save Harry, Bella, the fight…

"Oh Merlin! Harry! He was there, fighting Death Eaters!"

Without thinking, he made a step towards the Veil, but Sylvie's grasp, surprisingly strong for such a fragile-looking woman, made him stop.

"Are you mad, Black?" she snapped angrily. "What were you trying to do here – kill yourself or what?"

"I have to go back!" he exclaimed. "You don't understand – Harry is there, facing Death Eaters! He and his friends, and there was a fight at the Ministry, they were trying to steal the Prophecy. Remus was there, too, and the others, and Tonks was fighting Bellatrix, and…" He gasped, when he remembered how Tonks' body had hit the ground. "I have to go there, I have to help them! Oh Merlin, they probably think I'm dead…"

Sylvie listened carefully. Finally, she shook her head. "And what do you think you can do now? Jumping through the veil won't take you back there. It's going to kill you, most probably!"

"But if I could land here…" Sirius began, and the woman shook her head again.

"You landed here – well, you actually _crash-landed_ here – only because you had the incredible luck of me hearing the noise coming from _our_ Veil as soon as you have fallen through _yours_." She was sure that it was true; the experts who were still working on the Veil, had told her that it would probably have this effect. "You see, to my best knowledge, there are only two such Veils in the world – this one, which is still incomplete, and the one you've fallen through. That must have created a bond between the two of them, so when you fell, our Veil reacted to the change in the space that they share; you would have never come back, if I hadn't called from the other end, thus concentrating the energy space in my direction. Not that I knew it back then, mind you."

Sirius frowned, when he remembered the sudden pull that had dragged him towards the voice. Now, he knew what had caused it. "A human voice?"

She nodded. "There is no other explanation. If you step back now, you'll be either dead, or forever lost, because there will be no one on the other end to call you and drag you out."

It was true, because they all probably thought he was dead. Sirius sighed heavily and said, "Okay. Let's go out of here."

He changed to make sure that no one would recognize the mad murderer whose picture still graced almost every paper, including the French ones, but fortunately, they did not meet anyone. As soon as they left the French Ministry of Magic, Sylvie Apparated both of them to a place that Sirius recognized immediately – it was Cane's flat. There were splashing sounds coming from the bathroom, indicating that someone was taking a shower.

"Why are we here? Why not your flat?"

Sylvie had no intention of sharing the reason of their being here, instead of her own home – that after the severe quarrel with Pierre that had let to their decision to separate she had shielded her flat against Apparition to prevent him from entering. Unfortunately, she constantly forgot to remove the wards and that meant that now she herself could enter her flat only the Muggle way. That information had nothing to do with Sirius Black.

"I have to go back to the Ministry now. I left all my things and reports unsupervised, including some very important information. I'll come back as soon as possible."

Left alone, Sirius thought of Firecalling at Grimmauld Place but one look at the clock made him realize that it was too early; they probably did not have the time to go back to the Headquarters. He had no choice but wait. And while waiting, why should he not use that nice sofa here? Fighting Death Eaters and then traveling through the Veil of Death turned out to be exhausting. He yawned like the big black dog that he had been only minutes ago.

Arielle Lupin found him deeply asleep not even a minute later. She frowned, wondering what on earth Sirius Black could possibly be doing on her sofa late in the night. Well, you have to ask in order to receive an answer, so she crossed the corridor and knocked on Cane's door, but entered without waiting for his permission.

"Cane, what's…?"

She did not finish the question.

Cane was standing bare-feet and bare-chested next to his bed, his towel still clutched in his hand, his hair dripping wet from the shower. There were drops glistening on his face and chest. Arielle swallowed hard and for a moment, they just stared at each other, not knowing what to say or do.

"I haven't seen you like that in so long," Arielle finally whispered and entered the room. "Merlin, I had almost forgotten how handsome you are."

Cane was too stunned to say something. She came next to him and put her hand on his neck, wiping the tiny drops there. "Just handsome," she whispered.

_Don't do this,_ Cane wanted to say, _not if you don't want it to grow into something serious. And I know that you don't want._ Still, he could not make his mouth operate, even when the thought of that Edmond, and Simon, and this unpleasant Louis Armagnac from Beauxbatons filled him with bitterness – had she done the same thing to them?

"They mean nothing," Arielle said, as if she had read his thoughts. "They are only for fun, nothing more."

Cane nodded wordlessly. He knew that she was telling the truth but that truth was hard to bear. _Fun or nor, she's with Edmond now, she was with all of them! _

"You're the only one for me."

It was sadly true. And the same applied to her. What a pity, he thought, for a man to be committed to one woman only. What was even a greater shame was the fact that the man had more admirers that he could care to count and yet, he longed for the only one who he knew did not want to be with him. Of course, the real problem was that Arielle _wanted_ to be with him but she was convinced that she was not good enough for him – always needing to hide what she was, constantly living in a lie. If someone worked her secret out, Cane would be forced to face the same rejection that she herself would have to meet. What was worse was the fact that she could not give him children. _I don't want any children, I want you, he had told her more than once. You think so now, _she always answered him_, but what's going to happen ten years later_?

"I love you, Cane."

"I know," he said, in a hoarse voice. "Merlin, Arielle, why do you keep doing this? Why don't you believe me when I say…"

She withdrew her hand. "Don't! I shouldn't have come here at all, not without you telling me it's fine for me to enter. I'm sorry," she said and headed for the door, almost in tears.

He gritted his teeth, so he did not burst out, and struggled to control himself. Starting a shouting match with her now would do nothing.

At the threshold, Arielle suddenly stopped and turned round to look at him. "Are you well, Cane?" she asked, more softly. He knew what she meant: _Are you in good health?_ The months after Arion's disappearance had been hard for both of them. Cane would not say it aloud, when she was the one who needed comfort more than he did, but he was adapting to his Arion-less life almost as painfully as he had learned to live without Elise. And Arielle knew that when he was in deep distress, he contracted a disease that swelled his joints and fingers and made every movement a pure agony. Oh, he hid it well, thanks to his Metamorphmagus abilities, but during all those years she had learned to know the signs. The salve that was lying on his night table confirmed her suspicions. And: _Are you safe?_ They were not allowed to talk about the tasks that they did for the Order even with each other, but judging by some rumors, Arielle knew that he was engaged in some dark and dangerous deeds. And most of all: _Do you still keep faith, as I do, in better times and hope that they will come soon?_

"I am well," he said, his anger gone. "As ever. Constant. And you?"

She grinned at him. "Constant too."

They needed to say no more. No matter despair, cruel jealousy and tragic love, they were still a team, now more than ever, with Arion only God knew where and Fleur in England. Arielle left the room, feeling both hopeful and heartbroken. Only when she saw Sirius still sleeping on the sofa, did she realize that she had forgotten to ask Cane what his father was doing here.

She would have felt even more upset, had she known that Sirius had woken up from her knocking on Cane's door and that he had heard the whole conversation.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Four days later__…_

"Part of me wouldn't dare to believe it was true until I come here and saw you," Remus said, smiling. "I still have nightmares of you falling through that Veil, you know. I thought you were dead."

"Well, I was very close to that," Sirius grinned. "But that was worth it, if that was the price I had to pay to be finally cleared of all accusations."

Arielle, who had come to bring them coffee, only shook her head. "What?" Remus asked.

"You act just like Cane and Ar… Arion," she said, and tried to smile.

"So we've been told," her uncle said. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I am. I just miss him, that's all," Arielle answered. "He's been missing for so long."

"The poor girl looks like hell," Sirius said when she left the room. "Still no trace of the boy?"

"No," Remus sighed. "Let's go back to your current situation. I am happy to announce that you, Mr Padfoot, are now a free man."

Sirius grinned again. "And since the Ministry thinks I'm dead, they as good as proclaimed me a saint, right? Oh, I can't wait to see their faces when I come back!"

Remus rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. "When you come back, you'll have more important things to do, believe me."

Sirius' smile faded a little and he looked around in the living room. "I know. I take it that no one told Harry?"

"No, nobody. He's still at Hogwarts. What a great surprise will it be to see you at the station." Remus smiled again.

Sirius' spirit rose again. He couldn't wait to see his godson again and assure him that he was all right.

The doorbell rang and Arielle answered it. Her gasp of surprise turned into a real squeal of delight, when she recognized the newcomer – apparently a man, judging by his voice. 'Nice to see you too, Arielle," he said. "Prettier than ever, I see."

Sirius noticed the surprise on Remus' face when his friend recognized the voice. "Who's that?" he asked.

"My brother in-law," Remus answered. "What is he doing here? He was supposed to be in Japan!"

Alain Montresorre turned out to be a surprise. Somehow, Sirius had never thought of what a male Veela would look like, but Elise's brother was undoubtedly handsome. Silver-haired, with deep blue eyes and fair skin, he probably exercised the same influence on women that his Veela mother Vivienne and his sister Isabelle exercised on men.

But there was a deep mark on his face that stood ugly to his pale skin. Sirius' suspicions that it was a mark of burning were confirmed when the other man shook his hand – his hand was red and disfigured, covered with disgusting marks. _He must have lived through a fire_, Sirius thought.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked. "I thought you were still in Japan."

"I was," Alain said, "but Dumbledore contacted me and we arranged a meeting here for today."

"Dumbledore?" Remus and Sirius exclaimed simultaneously. "He's invited you to the meeting?' Remus continued, and his brother in-law merely shrugged.

"He has a high reputation, your Dumbledore, and I decided that if the thought it was something important, I'd better come and see. But in truth, I would have come anyway, for Morgaine's initiation."

Sirius looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant. His confusion only grew when Remus paled slightly. He looked frightened. What was he frightened of?

Alain Montresorre had noticed that also. "Didn't my mother tell you?"

Remus shook his head. "I haven't seen her in months."

"I see. I'm sorry, I thought you knew."

_Knew what_, Sirius wondered. _Say it. It has something to do with Morgaine, that much is obvious, but why is Remus so frightened? Is her uncle _threatening_ her or what_?"

Remus voice was carefully composed. "Are you sure? I think she's too young."

"My mother says she's ready. And she's not that young. Elise was fourteen when she accepted her initiation."

"Yes, but still I say let's wait for another year."

Alain Montresorre's face suddenly hardened and he gave Remus a cold glare. "Are you trying to evade the promise you made us years ago?"

Remus' face paled even more. He shook his head. "No."

"Then let us do it. It needs to be done."

"I know."

"Then?"

"It's hard, that's all."

"Hard! Of course it's hard." Alain dismissed that objection with a wave of his hand. "We must have the courage to send our children, if we expect them to have the courage to go. Ah, I can see that you remember now. Tell me, did you think that I insist on that with the sole purpose of scaring you out of your wits? Have you forgotten that the initiation that took place a year before your daughter's was the one of my own son?"

"It was not the same. Lucien has Veela blood from both you and his mother's sides. Morgaine does not."

There was a somewhat sympathetic expression on Alain's face but his voice was even, "When you married my sister, you knew that one day it would come to that. You knew who you married."

"That's true. But for Merlin's sake, Alain, she's still a child."

"And a part-Veela. When you married Elise, you accepted that. And though she's a child, my mother wouldn't have said that it was time for her first dance if it wasn't."

"And if I refuse to let her do this for another year?"

By now, Sirius' brain hurt by his efforts to understand what the other two were talking about. They were now looking each other in the eye in a silent battle of wills. Finally, Alain looked away and poured himself a cup of coffee, reheating it with his wand.

"You'd better not, Remus, because it could be dangerous."

"Dangerous for who? For the others?"

"No, for Morgaine herself. Blimey, that's hot!" he muttered and made a painful expression. "I mean, when a young Veela is ready to dance for a first time but isn't allowed to make it for some reason, then he or she might start feeling the pull of the fire. They might lose control and hurt themselves."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, it is, I of all people can assure you. What do you think, where did my burns come from? I was the same age Morgaine is now when my mother told me that I was ready for my initiation. My father didn't believe it, though, he thought it was too early. He was worried for me, just like you are worried for Morgaine. My mother couldn't get the better of him and I was not allowed to do the dance. Shortly after, I began feeling attracted to fire. Without being initiated, I could not control myself. The pull of the fire rose stronger and stronger, until one day I lit the chimney in my room." He shook his head. "I would have died if Christine hadn't found me. I barely lived. After that, my father never uttered a word, when the others came of age."

_What the hell is going on here?_ Sirius had heard enough to know that the man considered Morgaine threatened by something deep in her. But she was not attracted to fire or something! What were they talking about?

Remus' head hang. "I suppose you know best," he finally sighed. "After all, that is exactly what Elise warned me about."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"It's a long story," Remus said. "I'll tell you later. Dumbledore will be here any minute now."

The Headmaster really came a few minutes later but he was not alone. Sirius growled when he recognized the yellow skin and greasy hair.

"Black," Snape said, coldly. "I see you cannot be trusted even to die on time."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Sirius answered in the same tone. "I suppose you have already prepared the Firewhiskey to celebrate and then I just turn out to be alive. How very rude of me."

'Gentlemen," Dumbledore cut in, "this isn't the time. We have a very important matter to discuss – all of us. Messier Montresorre, I believe?"

Alain nodded. Dumbledore introduced himself and Snape to the Frenchman and then said, "I suppose it'd be better to come straight to the point. Severus, tell Remus what you've heard at the last meeting."

Snape looked at Remus and said in a flat voice, "You'd better keep an eye on your girl, Lupin. The Dark Lord wants her really badly."

"What? He wants something of Morgaine?"

"What the hell do you mean, Snape?" Sirius snapped. "Do you really think we are going to believe this? Why would Voldemort be after Morgaine?"

Snape looked at him in an almost pitiful manner. "You mean your _dear_ friend didn't tell you? Well, I suppose that your very important work has kept you too busy and he didn't want to distract you from it."

"Gentlemen, stop it!" Dumbledore interfered. "This really isn't either the time or the place. Sirius, I'll give you the answer you want… and then you'll understand why Voldemort wants Morgaine almost as much as he wants Harry."

_No, no, not this again,_ Sirius thought and the memory of Voldemort being after Harry during the first war and ever after made him shiver. Wasn't that enough? Why on earth would Voldemort hunt Morgaine? She was just an ordinary girl and her only distinguishing feature was her inability to talk.

"I take it that you know what I mean, young Mr Black?"

Cane nodded. "Remus told me as soon as Voldemort was back."

_But he didn't tell me. Why? I'm his best friend, for Merlin's sake, so why didn't he trust me?_

"Many years ago there was a prophecy, a prophecy that Voldemort had never heard of until now. It had nothing to do with him, at least not directly, but I believe that as soon as he heard it, he realized what he could gain of it."

"What prophecy?"

Dumbledore's eyes went to the blond-haired man who was sitting opposite to him. "I believe Messier Montresorre will be able to provide the best explanation."

The Frenchman nodded. "I see you know everything, Dumbledore. Yes, that's true. The prophecy you're referring to was made by me when my sister was born. I was just a child myself back then, and my parents knew that I had visions – visions that turned out to be true. When Elise was born, the first time I saw her in my mother's arms, I had one of those visions – I saw a young woman and I knew it was the same baby, just grown up. The young woman held a baby in her arms, too, and there was a blue light enveloping the child – blue, like the sky, but without clouds. And I knew what it meant – that the baby would become one of the greatest Veela Seers ever."

"And the Veela Seers are different than ours, right?" Dumbledore asked.

"You seem quite informed. Yes, twice in a year, in the days of the equinox, a Veela Seer can see anything, can say anything you ask her but when I said the greatest Veela Seers, I meant it. You she greatest Veela Seers can predict everything not only twice in a year – they can lead themselves in a state that recreates the state they are in the days of the equinox, so they can literally tell you anything you want when you want it. That's the difference."

"I did not know that." Dumbledore's voice sounded as close to confused as Sirius had ever heard it.

"Very few people know it. The greatest Veela Seers are not a common thing. There's been very few of them during the ages. My mother was amazed that a girl who's only a part-Veela could be one of them but that's it."

_They can tell you any__thing you want when you want it? Merlin, no wonder Voldemort would want to lay his hands on a girl like this. Did it really have to be my princess?_

"How could Voldemort know about that?" Remus asked. "Who could have told him that such a prophecy existed? It was certainly nothing of his concern, so why would someone bother to tell him about it now?"

All eyes fell on Alain, who shook his head. "I don't know. I'm positive that neither my parents, nor my siblings have told someone about the prophecy but there might have been someone else ion the room when I said it – a midwife, some sort of a guest or something like that. You'd better ask my mother."

"We'll do that," the Headmaster said. "Remus? You'll have to be very wary about your daughter. Voldemort seems to want her and her Talent very much."

"She has no talent right now," Alain said. "She can do nothing with it until her initiation and if Voldemort knows about the nature of the Veela Seers, he would know that, too."

"And when is her initiation going to happen?"

"Next month," Alain said. 'On 15 July."

"So, until then," Dumbledore concluded, "she's safe."

"It seems this way to me."

Remus' face had frozen into an ashen mask. "I can keep an eye on her until September but when she returns to Beauxbatons… if Voldemort was able to reach Harry at Hogwarts, why not Morgaine at Beauxbatons?"

Cane jumped to his feet. "Merlin, I need air," he said. "No, Arielle, stay here, I'm fine. Sirius? Care to come with me?"

Sirius stood up and let Cane take him to the kitchen terrace. Surprised, he saw that Cane cast a Silencing Charm all over them, as if he was afraid of someone eavesdropping on their conversation. "What's wrong? Except for the obvious, I mean?"

Cane came straight to the point. "I need your help."

"About?"

"I want you to protect Morgaine."

"You know I'll do anything to keep her safe."

"Anything?" Cane asked and Sirius nodded. "Even going to Beauxbatons with her?"

"What?"

"I want you to go there with her, as her pet. That way, you'll be able to keep an eye on her and protect her if she needs protection."

"You want me to live as a dog for a whole year?"

Cane bristled with anger. "I never heard you complaining about living as a dog for _two_ years when you had to keep an eye on Harry. Of course, I know that Morgaine could not _possibly_ be as much important as your godson, but still…"

"I never said that," Sirius said hurriedly.

"Then are you going to do it? Keep her safe?"

"I'll discuss it with Remus."

Cane nodded and looked at the city at their feet. "There is something more to that."

"Say it."

"To have any chance of success, we have to keep the secret of your identity strictly to ourselves. No one should know that you aren't dead."

Sirius shot him a disbelieving glance. "You want me to pretend being dead?"

"Yes. Only the Order should know the truth."

"But that means that Harry's going to think that I'm dead, too."

"Yes. We can't tell him the truth, Sirius, not now. He might share it with Ron and Hermione and even if he doesn't, he might slip something in front of the wrong person. Besides, I'm not sure that he'll be able to restrain from contacting you. It would seem strange to people if Morgaine's pet suddenly begins receiving letters. Besides, Harry has the Weasleys and many other people who are going to take care of him. Just a year, Sirius. I know that I'm asking too much of you, but I'm scared and I can't think of anything else. We'll find another solution for the next year, I promise."

"No," Sirius said firmly. "You cannot possibly expect of me to leave Harry alone for a whole year when we even don't know whether Morgaine is in real danger or not. It could turn out that she's safe at Beauxbatons."

Cane looked away from the city and met Sirius' eyes – and Sirius realized that the whole year's progress he had achieved with him had just been wasted. There was such sadness, disbelief, and fury in Cane's eyes that Sirius was instantly reminded of the day when Julian had been hit by the post-effects of the Cruciatus Curse, the day when Cane had accused Sirius of being the reason for Julian's suffering.

"The only thing I want is keep my little sister safe. I thought you would love to help me but I see that your ingratitude knows no boundaries, Sirius."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Elise gave her _life_ to save mine and you cannot find it in you to give her daughter _a single year_ of the precious time that you want to spend with Harry, that's what I mean. I don't even know why I'm surprised, really, I don't. It was always James and Harry for you, right? You could easily discard Remus' friendship and proclaim him a traitor because of your precious James; now you're ready to put Morgaine's life at risk just to be near Harry."

"Cane, that's not…"

"Don't tell me it's not true! In fact, don't try to talk to me ever again." He removed the Silencing Charm and left the terrace angrily.

16


	16. Dancing in the Fire

**Disclaimer: I think we all know who I am and who I am not – J. K. Rowling. It's a pity, ****really, but it's a fact.**

Well, thank you for reviews – both old and new ones. I really appreciate them.

Chapter 16

_Five days later__…_

Sirius had rarely seen Remus angry. True enough, he had seen him cold, distant, clearly disappointed and irritated but he could count on one hand all the cases when he had seen his friend deeply, really furious. Since he had returned from Azkaban, he had never seen this fury on the surface, so when he saw Remus' face, pale with anger, his lips pressed together and his eyes flashing angrily, he felt a sudden wave of fear rush through him. What had he done to make Remus this angry? They had not seen each other for three days, because Remus had been in Britain, so how he could have done something?

"Remus? What happened? Where is Cane? Isn't he with you?"

"He is with me, Sirius, and he will stay with me, thank Merlin for that! He just needs to clear his head before seeing you again."

Arielle, who had caught the cold anger in her uncle's voice, raised her eyes from her book. Chantal, who had not missed it either, suddenly remembered that she had a very important appointment right now, and left in a hurry.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

"I mean that I don't understand! You know, a few hours ago I was asked to witness the opening of a very interesting document – your will."

Sirius frowned. "My what?"

"Your will. You know, a document that is supposed to divide one's possessions between the more important people in his life. A will."

"I know what a will is, Remus, thank you very much! Where did you take the ludicrous idea of me having one from?"

Remus stared at him. "You mean you never written something around the lines of "I, Sirius Black, leave all my property to Harry Potter?"

"What?" Arielle gasped. "Did he really do it?"

"Oh yes, he did."

"No," Sirius said, his anger now equal to his friend's anger. "I would have never written such a…" But suddenly, he remembered. "Oh no, oh no! Shit!"

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then?"

Sirius bit his lip. "It was an accident," he said in a small voice. "Angela and I, we had an argument, she wanted me to come home more often. We both said ugly things, things that we didn't mean, and she finally yelled at me that I should write a will and leave everything to Harry, if I love him, James and Lily that much. She said that it wouldn't have surprised her at all, given the attention I devoted to them, compared to the one that I gave her and Cane."

"And you, of course, just had to take her to her word and do it, didn't you?" Remus sighed but his anger did not abate. "Really, Sirius, sometimes I wonder what kind of person you are. I always tried to turn a blind eye to the stupid things you did, always tried to understand your reasons, but that is simply too much. What the hell would have happened if you had been killed during the war? Did you think about your wife and son at all or just about your pride? Or did you want to punish Angela? Was that what it was all for?"

Sirius' anger returned. "Punish Angela? Don't be ridiculous! Why would I want to punish her?"

"I don't know, maybe for not being able to give you another child?"

Sirius clenched his fists. "Save me your cheap analysis, Remus. Anyway, I fail to see why any of this should be of your concern."

Remus bit his lip, pretended to think over the matter. "Let's see… maybe because for fifteen years I've been taking care of two boys who now have to learn that their father cherished his pride more than their well-being and that of their mother? In fact, I don't intend to share this piece of news with Julian – he won't even think that your will could concern him. So, that leaves Cane alone. How do you think he felt when he was summoned all of a sudden to hear your will and learned that you didn't felt it was appropriate to leave him a single thing? Tell me, Sirius, did you think back then what would happen to Cane and Angela if you had been killed? Do you understand that James and Lily would have had the right to kick them out of the flat?"

"James and Lily would never have done that!"

"Of course they wouldn't have, but that is hardly the matter and you know it. What I mean is, how could you leave your wife and son at the mercy of your godson's parents?"

Each word was spoken lower than the previous one; Remus' voice was tightened with anger. Sirius knew that he was right but that only made his own fury rise. "Yes, it was the most idiotic thing to do and I messed up! But you, you're more than happy that Cane hates me now more than ever, right? Because you'll become even a greater hero in his eyes. Do you think I didn't know, Remus? Do you think that I don't know the real reason why you decided to take care of him all these years ago? It wasn't because Angela asked you."

"Oh, really? Then why did I do it? Go ahead. Enlighten me."

By that point, Arielle had made herself invisible at the other part of the flat, not that the two angry men had noticed her leaving.

"You took him in because you wanted him – you've always wanted him, since the day he was born! Oh, I remember how you used to look at him and then at me – you envied me, Remus! You envied me because I had what you so desperately wanted. I had Cane. That's why you agreed to take care of him – because you wanted him to be your son!"

"I never denied that," Remus answered coldly. "But undoubtedly, you would have preferred for him to be raised by the most horrible people in the world. It's true, they might have starved him, they might have treated him far worse than Harry's relatives treated _him_, but at least they wouldn't have considered him their son, right." He laughed coldly. "You were never the one who loved to share his toys, Sirius."

"Cane is not a toy!"

"Isn't he? Playing with him when you feel like doing it and then shove him aside, so he would not bother you, that's the way one treats a toy, Sirius, and not a son."

By now, both men had stopped thinking before talking – now, they spoke only to hurt each other. The dam of the love they both felt for Cane had broken and their rivalry for him broke free.

"Did you really think that you could come out of Azkaban and everything would still be the same? Tell me, Sirius! Did you really expect of Cane to be the same little boy who adored you and believed his mother's excuses about your constant absences when the truth was that you preferred to spend your time with other people instead of them, _another boy instead of him_? Who sat still by your command and patiently waited for you to be in the mood to play with him? Did you think that you could say 'But they needed me' and he would just nod and accept that you never wished to see that he and Angela needed you too? And how the hell could you do such an idiotic will and not tell me? I've been trying for a whole year to mend things between you and him, for both your sakes, and now you go and do this! If you had told me, I would have tried to prepare him for what happened today, I would have softened the blow but no!"

"I said that I had forgotten about this!"

"Yes, you did," Remus agreed. "Obviously, it was just another happy memory that the Dementors could not leave you – the thought how smart you were, how you gave Angela exactly what she deserved for being so selfish to want her husband for herself, instead of waiting patiently for her turn to be at the receiving end of his care."

"And while I was busy being a fool, you were busy trying to steal my son away from me!" Sirius roared. "You used the situation to make yourself look great in Cane's eyes – always there, always playing with him, always trying to step into my shoes!"

Remus laughed cruelly. "Did I? I'd rather say that you were the one who pushed Cane into my arms by always being with James and Lily, and Harry, and always leaving him and his mother behind." His laughter died, as well as his anger, and looking at Sirius, he said in a very calm voice, "Name it as you like, Sirius, the truth still remains the same: you had it all – money, being liked in our society, a great job. You had the most beautiful wife in the world and she loved you. You were a father of a great kid. You never appreciated it. You never treasured what you had and you never thought that it might be more than you deserved. That's why you lost it. All of it."

Sirius looked pale like death now. "Where have you hidden all that?" he whispered.

"Beneath my care and concern for you, Sirius. I spared you because I wanted you whole and healthy. I thought that you needed healing first before you could deal with this kind of conversation."

" A conversation," Sirius mocked. "A shouting match, that's what it is." He sighed. "What do you want me to do, Remus?"

"To tell Cane. Explain it to him how you've been in such need of healing your pride that you didn't hesitate to put his future and his mother's future to risk. Try to make him understand why the flat you lived in – one of the very few places that he connects with the three of you as a family, with his mother – had become Harry's property. Come on, Sirius, go on, try to explain all this to him but do not expect that he will forget it as easily as you did. Because this is more than a simple act of carelessness. It is a betrayal and be sure that he already knows that."

He turned around and was on his way to come out.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"At the railway station. Beauxbatons students are coming home today and I have to pick the children."

"Ah, yes. Morgaine and Julian. I haven't seen him in almost a year."

Remus shook his head. "Don't even think of it, Sirius. I won't let you charm him and then hurt him. Cane is more than enough for me, I don't need to deal with another boy who has met your great gestures and even greater lack of care."

Sirius gave him a scornful glare. "Great or not so great, the truth is still the same, Remus – they are both related to me and you cannot escape that fact."

"Really? Then why are we having this conversation?" Remus returned Sirius' glare in full force. "Live in your happy illusions as long as you want, Sirius, but remember one thing: their life is with me now. I'm not giving them to you just because you happened to be innocent and decided that you want to be their father, after all. You'll have to accept the bloody fact that you made your choice years ago, when you decided that Angela, Cane and the unborn baby could take care of themselves and threw yourself vigorously into taking care of James, Lily and Harry. For Merlin's sake, accept what you have and stop looking for you cannot have – what you left off years ago! And take care of Harry – better care of the one you took of Cane because Harry is the closest thing you have to a son right now. I have two sons – Cane Black and Julian Black. And you, Sirius, have none. Remember? They're both mine."

Sirius shuddered. He had forgotten how cruel Remus can become when he was really, really angry. The worst of all was that his final words were said not just to hurt Sirius – Remus said them because they were true. Merlin, that truth was so hard to bear.

Remus left the flat without another word and Sirius made no move to stop him.

Strange at it was, their argument made Sirius feel better – they both had needed to release their anger. After a day or two they would start talking to each other again and things would be better then before, now, when there was nothing left unsaid. Unfortunately, he could not expect the same to be valid when it came to Cane and him. _The stupid will! How could I forget? How could I ever write it in the first place?_

Arielle came back an hour later. Sirius suspected that she had heard the whole row, but thankfully, she gave no indications of that. She just cooked an omelet the Muggle way – Sirius suspected that it was Mrs Lupin's doing, Arielle cooking the Muggle way – and they both had dinner. They didn't talk much – after all, Sirius felt deeply confused and ashamed and he knew that Arielle was on Cane's side, which meant that she must be shocked at what had happened today in Britain.

It became dark, and there was still no trace of Cane. Sirius saw the way Arielle's head turned to every noise from outside and then her shoulders slumped in disappointment after the sound died. _Where is he? Is he okay?_ Sirius could read those questions on her face, her whole posture. He himself was tensed, waiting for the door to open and at the same time, dreading it.

Finally, he went to the little room in the magically widened living room that was made for him after his miraculous escape from the Veil, and tried to fall asleep to no avail. The front door opened, but it was only Arion's girlfriend coming back. He heard the shushed voices of the two girls who obviously thought he was sleeping and did not want to wake him up. Finally, Chantal went to her bedroom and Arielle stayed in the living room, obviously determined to wait for Cane. After a while, she turned the TV on and not even a minute later, the living room was filled with such an incredible noise that Sirius poked his head through the door to see what kind of film it was.

It was not a film at all. At least, not a TV film.

"You fool! An incredible fool! Look at what you did! You splashed my painting and ruined it," the ten or eleven-year-old Arielle shouted from the screen and threw a fierce glance at Arion, brandishing her brush.

"This place right to the swimming pool is hardly the best for painting in water-colours,", Arion answered haughtily to her accusations. "Especially when everyone keeps diving in. You're the only one to blame for your paintings smearing. Besides, I am not an idiot."

"No, you're a cretin," his twin sister answered immediately, and then gasped horrified. "Stop it, Arion Lupin! Stop shaking your water off like this! Oh! What a scoundrel you are! You ruined my other paintings, too! Oh Merlin, they're all watered! Aunt … Aunt … tell Arion to step aside from my pictures!" she cried angrily, almost in tears.

"I need this hat," little Anath Lupin said in a very business-like voice, then grabbed her sister's big yellow hat from the lounge next to Arielle, pulled it over her eyes and happily went on her way, dragging a rubber duckling after her on the ground.

"Give me back my hat, you indocile girl!"

But after her five years-old sister paid no attention to her, Arielle exclaimed to herself, "Did you see it? She took my hat without being allowed to. Aunt Elise, this child is awfully ill-behaved. Mum and Dad made her so. It's hopeless to…"

The woman, who was reclining in the nearby lounge, raised her head and Sirius saw the slightest hints of a smile on her glossy pink lips. He had paid no attention to her, but Arielle's exclamation had given him a hint who she was and now, he looked at her with great interest.

In real life, Remus' wife looked far better than those pictures of her that Sirius had seen. Her long silver hair was put in a bun, her fair skin seemed to be shining as well as her deep blue eyes where Sirius saw hidden amusement. He's never seen such delicate facial features. She looked so young and happy, not knowing that she would die soon – in a few years only. Sirius had once read in a book that when a beautiful creature died, it was a loss for the whole world and for the first time, he realized the real meaning of the words. A loss for the whole world – and for a few people more than anyone else.

Elise tried to suppress her smile and returned to her book while Arielle still was on ranting how ill-behaved her sister was.

"Oh, do stop whining," Arion said impatiently, lay on the air bed, reached for the Iliad and started reading.

"Give me my hat back!" Arielle shouted and started stamping her feet on the tiles.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, leave her alone!" a new voice cut in. Sirius' heart leaped when he recognized the dark head popping out of the water. Cane smiled at Arielle and got out of the swimming pool, careful not to water her paintings and thus, make her angry at him. "After all, she's just a _baby_."

"I'm not a baby," came a muffled voice from under the big hat.

"Anyway, why are you so keen on it, Arielle? It's just a cheap rug from the market."

"It's not a rug! It's _beautiful_. And besides, it cost me my pocket money for the entire week, just so you know, Cane Black!"

Cane snickered. "Bad for you," he said.

"Oh, it's not like you know something! You're a _cretin_ like my brother!"

"Is it the only silly word that you know, you silly fool?" Cane shouted and stuck out his tongue at her.

"Idiot! Idiot! That's what you are!" Arielle started yelling.

"John… me too! Me too!" came a new voice from the other side of the pool and when Sirius threw a look to see who had shouted, he felt a real shock.

It was Morgaine. Morgaine, age four or five, seemed smaller than the girl he knew, with short hair and reddened round face but the most obvious difference was that she looked very happy. She was smiling and prattling, and bubbling with excitement while waiting for John to stop swimming with Julian on his stomach and take her for the same ride. In fact, she was _yelling_ encouragements to them which John, by some unknown reason, failed to hear.

Sirius had never heard Morgaine's voice until now.

"Aunt Elise, I'll take my blouse off, it's all dirty!" came Anath's voice from under the sun-hat.

"Do you see that I'm right, Cane?" Arielle started chuckling. "I don't know any other five-year-old who still dirties his clothes with ice-cream."

"That's not true! It wasn't me who dirtied them, Aunt Elise," came Anath's voice, loud and clear, as she took the hat off and showed her small reddened face.

"Mummy, can I have another biscuit?" Morgaine asked and before her mother could forbid her, she took one and bit in it.

"Aunt Elise! Look at her! Look how she's dragging my beautiful hat into the puddles. Stop, you monster! Stop! Aunt Elise, tell her to stop. Aunt Elise… you aren't listening to me. If you throw this hat into the puddle, I'm going to kill you, Anath Lupin! John! Take my hat! Quickly, before it could sink in!"

Again, John showed no sign of hearing what was going on around him but the hat came near Julian who was still floating on John's stomach, and despite the fact that he could not see it, he realized what it must be when it butted him on the shoulder, so he reached and managed to find it from first try.

"Thank Merlin! If only I can get a hold of you, Anath!" Arielle yelled after the small silhouette that was walking away.

"Aunt Elise… Aunt Elise… aren't you going to tell Arielle to stop harping on the same string? She's giving me a headache!" Arion said without looking away from his book.

"Mummy, look what I found!" Julian yelled, swinging the wet hat into the air.

"Oh Merlin! Aunt Elise, she ruined my _expensive_ hat! _Aunt Elise_, did you hear what I told you?"

"Julian, give me this hat," Elise said in a calm voice and looked tensely how Julian pinched John to show him that he should tale him on the ground and then started walking towards her in small hesitant steps, probing the ground with his walking stick. "Yes, honey, you're great. Come to me. Yes, I'm right here."

Sirius noticed the sudden silence and realized that all the children had stopped their quarrels, looking with interest while Julian was walking towards Elise. Arielle even took a step towards him, as if she wanted to help him, but Cane shook his head and she stopped. Encouraged by Elise's voice, Julian finally reached her and proudly gave her the hat. She kissed his cheeks. "Very well, Julian, you're great."

Now, when Julian had safely reached his mother, the children threw themselves in their arguments again. Elise shook her head, took her wand and casted a spell that left Arielle's sun-hat as shining as it had been before, and then started to talk to Julian in a low voice, stopping only to snatch the box of biscuits out of Morgaine's hands and giving her a lecture of how one should not eat all the biscuits in there.

The noise was incredible. Sirius had the feeling that his head would explode, and wondered how it came that Elise had not gone deaf yet.

"Earth to Elise, earth to Elise. Answer, Elise," Cane yelled. "I was asking whether we can go to the city in the afternoon. Can we go, Elise? _Elise_, can we go?"

"_Mummy_, can we go?" Julian asked excitedly.

"_Aunt Elise_, I want a dry blouse."

"_Aunt Elise_, look at what Anath is doing! She's swinging her blouse into the air. Aunt Elise. Aunt Elise. _Aunt Elise_!"

"For Merlin's sake, Arielle, do stop screaming!" Arion shouted. "How am I supposed to I concentrate in Homer when you're yelling into my ears? What a plague you are, to hell with you!"

"You wait until Dad hears that, and you'll see then!"

"And who's going to tell him, Miss Gossiper?"

"I've never told on you, you blockhead."

"If I am a blockhead, then you're one too, twin of mine!"

"Merlin, you're a pair of blockheads!" Cane yelled.

"What did you call me?" Arion bellowed.

"Mummy, Mummy, tell the boys to stop fighting!" Morgaine squealed.

Angrily, Elise jumped to her feet. She started giving orders in a loud voice, but her words were drowned by the sudden knelling of a bell whose sounds echoed in the warm air. When the echo died, Elise asked in amazement, "What on earth was that?"

"The gong," Morgaine answered.

"The gong?" Elise repeated, noticing how quiet the children had become. "What gong? Whose gong?"

"Aunt Sylvie's… she bought it," Julian explained.

"From the house in the other street," Cane interrupted and took the task of answering to his mother's bewildered questions. "The old lady who lived there died and there was a clearance sell two weeks ago. We all came there along with Aunt Sylvie because she thought she could make a good buy."

"But the only thing we bought was the gong," Arielle muttered.

"Mum gives us signals with it," Arion said. "One stroke means breakfast, two mean lunch and three – dinner."

" And when it knells ceaselessly, like it does now, it means that we're going to be in trouble," Morgaine said in a confidential voice. "Because we've misbehaved, she said."

"I see," Elise said, and tried not to smile. Each child was scared, even the most unruly ones. Sylvie really was a smart one.

"Oh, we'll have such a lecture…" Cane muttered.

"You're right," Arion agreed. "Let's get out of here, all of us, because if we don't hurry up, my mother will start assigning us stupid tasks or worse – she will start thinking of idiotic occupations to make use of our time in a proper manner."

In mere seconds, Cane, Arion and Arielle had hurried to the stairs that were leading to the beach, so the only ones who stayed with Elise were Julian, Morgaine and Anath – and John, who was still swimming, oblivious to everything that had happened.

_Blessed silence_, Sirius thought, and obviously, Elise shared the same opinion, because she relaxed back in her lounge and kept her eyes shut. Sirius could not help but feel sorry for her. He was sure that he would have preferred to face Voldemort himself instead of those… those monsters who had disguised themselves to children.

Elise took a deep breath. "Now, Morgaine," she started in a lecturing tone, "about those biscuits…'

The next moment, Sylvie Lupin came into view, stopped in front of Elise and the two of them shared a meaningful glare – and burst out laughing.

"I know it's noisy, but it works flawlessly," Sylvie said.

"And how!" Elise agreed. "I've never seem them becoming tame so quickly, never. You've made a great purchase."

"So it seems," Sylvie laughed. "Merlin, they made such a noise, I'm surprised that your head is still intact. I still have trouble putting my thoughts together."

"Mummy, my blouse is dirty," Anath said, went to Sylvie and started pulling at her dress.

"Again," Sylvie sighed and was about to pull her wand and cast a _Scourgifying_ spell but then changed her mind. Instead, she looked at the swimming pool and her eyes narrowed in suspicion when she saw her son who had not noticed her arrival.

"_Accio_!"

The next moment, John was standing, dripping water, in front of his mother who pointed her wand at him again. _"Finite incantatem!"_

John blinked and his face became guilty. "A self-deafening spell?" Sylvie inquired coldly.

"Mum, they were making such a noise, I had to do something," John defended himself.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Sixteen."

"What is the legal age of performing spells out of school?"

"Seventeen," he muttered.

"Right. Now, go to your room and wait until I decide what to do with you. I'll think of something, mark my words."

John left the swimming pool, muttering something about his oh so quiet dormitory at Beauxbatons.

Sylvie looked at her daughter, then her niece, and finally Elise.

"Why do I act so foolishly?" she exclaimed. "Allowing the two babysitters to take their day off simultaneously to go to Paris and buy perfumes. And it had to be today, when you and Remus finally came to visit us. I'm so sorry, Elise."

"It's fine, Sylvie. After all, we've been enjoying two such quiet weeks since the children came to your villa and it seems only fair for us to suffer a little now."

With a soft sigh, Sylvie took Anath by her hand. "Come on, let's get dressed. You too, Morgaine, come with us."

"Oh, thank you, Sylvie," Elise murmured and relaxed further in her lounge.

"We're going to have lunch at one o'clock," Sylvie said, "and we're going to have dinner outside. Just the four of us."

"That's a good idea," Elise smiled. "Two children-free hours. Pure bliss."

Sylvie smiled in response and left with the two girls.

"Mummy?" Julian said and reached at Elise, trying to find her hand. Elise took his small hand in her fingers and helped him sit next to her on the lounge. Sirius noticed the great tenderness with which she treated the blind child and felt like crying. Julian was so confident now, he was coping with his defect so well that somehow he had never thought that all his abilities hadn't been given to him by God, that he had had to _learn_ how to cope. He was learning now, right before Sirius' eyes. Elise and Remus' lives couldn't have been easy…

"Mummy, did you see me? When John took me on the ride?"

"I saw you, Julian. You were great!"

"He said he was going to teach me how to swim!" Julian announced.

"Did he? When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then you are going to be able to swim in a few days. Oh, honey, can you tell me who is coming?"

Julian cocked his head to one side and listened carefully to something that Sirius could not hear. He supposed it had to be footsteps.

"A man?" Julian said hesitantly.

"Yes. Can you tell me who he is? Try harder, my boy."

Julian's face tightened in his effort to find out who the visitor was, then suddenly brightened. He extracted his hand from his mother's hand and hurried toward Remus, without his walking stick.

"Julian, be careful not to trip and fall over!" Elise cried, alarmed.

Julian did not answer. He was running as fast as his small legs could carry him, and yelling, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Remus grabbed him, threw him in the air and them over his shoulder, making him laugh hard. "Well, Julian, what are we going to do now?"

"Swimming!" the boy answered immediately.

"Well, we'll have to ask your mother for permission. Can we, honey?" he cried out at her.

"Of course," Elise answered and moved a little in her lounge to have a better look at the swimming pool.

Holding Julian tightly, Remus entered the pool and the two of them immediately started splashing and laughing. Sirius felt envious of his friend. He could not know what he himself had done in that moment, but he was positive that it was not anything pleasant. How could it have been pleasant when he was in Azkaban! Unlike him, Remus had enjoyed the sun, the swimming pool and the complete adoration of Sirius' son…

Now, Raymond Lupin stepped into view, followed by a silver-haired girl who already possessed a great beauty – Elise's beauty. Fleur Delacour. She was holding a tray with fruit juice that she placed at one of the tables, on a shady place. "Hello, Aunt Elise. I made it for you."

"It seems very nice, thank you, Fleur," Elise smiled. "I'm really hot. When did your parents leave?"

"Yesterday evening. I've already chosen a name for the baby," she added.

"Really? What is it?"

"Gabrielle," the girl answered.

"And if the baby is a boy, then what?"

"I'll think of something, then" Fleur answered.

Raymond filled a glass with juice and offered it to Elise. "I think Gabrielle is a fine name," he said. "Do you want juice, Fleur?"

"No, thank you," the girl said and looked around. "Where are Cane and the others, Aunt Elise?"

"I think they went to the beach. Just a few minutes ago."

"Oh Merlin! I'm willing to bet that they're at the old rock. I'm going there too," Fleur yelled excitedly. "See you later, Aunt Elise, Uncle Raymond," she said and ran to the beach.

Raymond looked at her and then turned to Elise. "This is the most well-mannered child in the whole group. If the others – mostly my own – had half of her manners, I would have been a happy man." He said on a chair next to Elise and poured juice for himself. "Sylvie told me that an hour ago, they all went crazy."

"That's true, Raymond, the situation was getting out of hand. But Sylvie stopped the rows with this wonderful, magical gong." She looked at her brother in-law and laughed. "You could always count on Sylvie to think of something like that. But the truth is, it works and I'd love to be able to handle them like that, too."

"We all would love to," Raymond smiled.

The film ended and Sirius noticed that Arielle was crying. Now, he saw that she was not alone on the sofa. He had been so absorbed in the video record that he had completely missed Cane's arrival.

They did not see him, they were too preoccupied with each other. He felt guilty for spying on them, but he wanted to see what would happen now. He wanted to understand what kind of relationship they had and why this relationship made Cane miserable.

"It was so long ago," Arielle whispered.

"Far too long," Cane agreed.

"We were happy, Cane, weren't we?"

"Very happy."

"What happened to us all?"

"Life happened, Arielle, and life continues to happen."

She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and looked at him in the semi-dark room.

"Are you well?"

"Of course I am," he smiled, but he was lying.

"Really? I don't think so. Uncle told us what happened today."

"Did he? Don't worry, nothing happened. I'm okay. I don't give a damn about Sirius' money. I never did. And besides, who would want that monster of a house?"

"Maybe the ones it truly belongs to," she said softly. "I mean, no offence to Harry, he's a nice kid, but I'll never accept that he should use what belongs to you and your brother."

Cane shrugged and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "It doesn't belong to us," he said. "It belongs to whomever Sirius wants it to belong. Honestly, I don't give a damn. It's only natural. After all, Harry is the only one he truly cares about. I knew that even when I was four. He missed my birthday, you know."

Sirius felt a pang of guilt. He had hoped that Cane had forgotten that. _Of course he hasn't forgotten it, how could he ever forget?_

"Really?" Arielle asked.

"Yes. I was a nice birthday, though, with many children and everything. I expected him to be there and I was sure that he would come." He smiled. "He didn't. He came late in the night and gave me some silly explanation of being busy and everything."

"And you think that it was not true?"

Cane shook his head. "No, Arielle, I'm positive that it was not true. I don't even know why I was surprised when I heard his will. When he wrote it, he was obsessed with the Potters, his relationship with my mother was at a hard stage and Julian was not even born. But he is going to be the one surprised when he finds out that after all, he had not left everything to Harry."

_Haven't I? What is he talking about?_

Arielle was surprised, too. "What do you mean?"

"All he could leave to Harry was the gold his uncle Alphard left him in his will. Ah, yes, and our flat – I mean, his flat. He can't leave Harry anything else because he has nothing else – no part of the Black's fortune, not even the house."

Now, Arielle seemed to understand, because she nodded. Sirius, however, was still in the dark. _What the hell is going on?_

"There is something else that is bothering me far more than Sirius' idea of loyalty and family," Cane said.

"Yes?"

"Sirius. And me," he said simply.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked, bewildered.

Cane sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I saw Harry today," he said.

"What? Why?"

_Yes, Cane, why,_ Sirius wanted to ask. _How is he coping after what he thought was my death?_

"I made Remus take me there. I saw him from afar. I wanted to see how he is feeling without Sirius, I suppose."

"And?"

"And he looked awful. I can say that he misses Sirius terribly. And you know what? Even after seeing him, I am still ready to make him believe that Sirius is dead." He laughed again, bitterly. "I don't give a damn about the emotional state he's in. I mean, of course I don't want him to suffer but I'm more than willing to leave him like this if it means that Morgaine will be safe. Doesn't it sound familiar? The hell with Angela and Cane, James, Lily and Harry are more important. What does it matter that Remus tears himself to death every full moon because he is left alone? James must be safe, I can't risk being close to Remus because he might be the traitor." His voice turned to a whisper. "I am the same like Sirius Black – the same cynical bastard who cares for no one but a limited number of people. What are you going to say to that, Arielle? How do you feel being in love with a man who doesn't care for anyone else?" He took his glass for his lips. "Cheers for the resemblance in Black's family!" And he took a stable sip.

"You aren't like him," Arielle said firmly. "You aren't like him at all, and those troubles of yours are the proof for this. If you were heartless, you wouldn't have worried at all about how Harry might feel."

"Did you hear my words? I'm more than willing to leave him to his misery!" Cane said, irritated.

She only smiled in response, not looking the least bit disturbed. "Family comes first, Cane."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that yes, the two of you are very much alike. You have the same hastiness, the same impulsiveness, the same sense of loyalty." She smiled. "The only difference is who the two of you give this loyalty to. You and Morgaine, you're a family, while Harry is a stranger to you. For myself, I would have not hesitated to sacrifice any stranger or even any friend of mine if that meant having John and Arion back. It doesn't make me feel like a good person, but that is a fact. And I don't feel guilty because of it."

_She's merciless_, Sirius realized. _How could I have not noticed that until now?_

"That's how we are, Cane. That's the way most people are. They choose their family over their friends and over the strangers, just like you did. Just like Sirius does, choosing Harry over Morgaine. For once, he makes the right choice. For him. That doesn't mean that his choice is the right one for you. For Merlin's sake, if you feel it is wrong for you to want the best for Morgaine for Harry's expense, why do you feel angry at Sirius for wanting the best for the Potters for _your_ expense and that of your mother's? What is the difference?"

At that point, Sirius wanted to slap her for her cold logical thinking. She was, in fact, encouraging Cane to go on with his desire to protect Morgaine for Harry's expense, which, besides being unfair, would also deepen the rift between Cane and Sirius. And how on earth did she dare make an assessment of Sirius' own feelings? How did she dare to say that he never cared for his family?

Cane, however, looked more composed. "Merlin, no one can show me what a fool I am better than you," he said.

"That's one of my talents," she smiled. "I love it that you're being a fool sometimes – a fool of principles."

Cane's mood changed immediately. "So, you don't love me when I'm not a fool?" he asked in a teasing voice.

Arielle sighed; she knew where that conversation would lead them. "Stop it, Cane," she said in a firm voice. "You and me, it's never going to happen. I don't want you."

"I don't believe it."

"If it makes you happy to think that, I don't mind."

"I'll never stop thinking that," Cane was getting angry now. "Even when I visit the finest brothels in all Paris."

Arielle did not give up to that provocation. "Fine. Then, you can tell me how those girls do some things. I've always been curious."

"Why?" Cane whispered. "Tell me why, Arielle. You've been waiting for me for hours to come back, just to make sure that I was all right, you're doing everything you can to help me feel better and yet, you're never going to say 'yes'. That constant evasion of the truth is of no good for any of us."

She stood up. "I'm not having this conversation with you," she said in a firm voice and left.

Left alone, Cane stood up and threw his glass of whiskey at the wall, then turned the video on again, but without sound. The pain in his joints almost made him clench his teeth. But only almost – it had become a second nature to him to hide the pain. He looked at the screen. Blue sky, bright sun, children's quarrels, and Elise filled his view. He looked at them and tried to count how many of them had remained intact, how many of those laughing faces had kept their innocence and belief that the world is a wonderful place to live in. Elise was dead, sacrificing herself for him; John was lying in St Mungo's, condemned to the consequences of the Curse of the Living Dead; Arion was only Merlin knew where, if he was still alive, of course; Arielle was bitten and unwilling to accept Cane's love for her for fear that she would fail him, if she did; little Morgaine was mute and in danger and Cane could do so little to help her, so little; and, at the end, he himself, fighting his own demons, healing wounds that he had considered closed but they were, in fact, still burning, unable to convince the girl that he loved to say 'yes'. _Everything's changed_, he thought bitterly. _Why did it change_?

The crack of the door startled him. Arielle had come back. Her face wore no trace of her previous cold determination – her dark eyes held only concern. She held the bottle with salve that usually lay on his night table.

"May I see your hands?" she asked, very softly.

Cane looked at her, surprised. "It's not a pretty sight," he said.

"Despite that."

He shrugged and closed his eyes, concentrating to return to his true form. Arielle did not flinch – she was prepared for what she saw, despite never having witnessed the effects of his illness. Sirius, on the other hand, almost gave a startled cry of alarm. Without the protection of morphing, Cane's knuckles and the bones of his wrists had swollen grotesquely, they would have looked more natural at the arms of a man at least fifty pounds heavier than Cane. The skin that was stretched over them had a color that would be normal for a person with a fair complexion, but for someone as dark as Cane, it looked ugly and sick. Sirius even thought that he detected a few red lines from where the skin had cleaved from the monstrous bloat of the joints.

Very carefully, Arielle took Cane's hands into her own and inspected them closely. "I've always wondered how they look like when you're ill," she said.

"Not a pretty sight, huh?" Cane asked.

"No, not at all," she agreed. "I take it that you haven't exaggerated the effects just to get me worried?"

"No."

Arielle sighed. "I didn't think you did. May I?"

She reached for the salve and Cane stopped her. "No," he said gently, but firmly. "I prefer doing it on my own."

"You let Arion do this for you."

"You are not Arion," he said, "and I'd like to do it by my own."

She slowly caressed his swollen knuckles. "Do you think you'll be healthy again soon?" she asked.

Cane laughed, genuinely amused by her question. "With everything that keeps happening all around us? No," he answered cheerfully.

Sirius was still looking with some sort of horrified fascination at Cane's bloated hands even after Arielle left. That was the first thing that he asked Remus about the next morning. "What's wrong with him?"

Remus shrugged. "It happens from time to time. It's some sort of affliction of the joints that comes and goes. But he is worse, when he's distressed, and right now, he is very distressed. Has been ever since Arion's disappearance."

_I bet that his concern for Morgaine does not makes things easier_, Sirius thought. _And the reading of my will didn't help either. My return brought him no good_. _Yes, I can imagine that he is happy not to be a Death Eater's son, but at the same time, I think that he had come to peace with it. Maybe it was easier to believe that I was a traitor than think that I placed him and his mother second. This stupid will, how could I forget about it? And what did he mean when he said I own nothing? Well, I certainly don't own him or his respect_, he mused sadly. _How could I when I refused to protect one of the people who are most important in his life_? Then, his thoughts turned to the young woman that he had seen on the TV screen. Remus' wife. _Elise gave her life to save mine and you cannot find it in you to give her daughter a single year of the precious time that you want to spend with Harry_, Cane had said. _Merlin, how much do I treasure my son's life if I can't return the gesture to the woman who saved it? _

This night, Sirius fell asleep, feeling like the biggest ingrate ever.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A f__ew weeks later…_

Sirius could not look away from the wand Cane was holding. It was not Cane's own. Sirius thought he knew it but he could be mistaken after all those years and the light provided only by the glowing embers.

They were in a clearing in Montresorre's estate – Remus, Cane, Julian, Raymond and Sylvie, Arielle and Anath. Fleur was here too, along with her father. Her grandfather, Dominic Montresorre, was also present, along with two silver-haired boys, who were presented as Charles and Lucien Montresorre. For a moment, Sirius spotted Sarah Potter, James' Ravenclaw cousin, but she disappeared before he could ask what she was doing here. He could tell that Cane was not delighted with his, Sirius', presence here. He could practically read his son's thoughts: _He's ready to put Morgaine's life in danger and now, he's present at her initiation. He doesn't belong here_! But since Morgaine herself had invited Sirius weeks ago, Cane had no say in the matter. Again, Sirius' eyes flew to the wand in Cane's hand and then at his pale, tightened face. Sirius felt that Cane was scared – very scared. Next to him, Remus looked calm, but to Sirius, who knew him better than most people, he made no different impression. The dog Animagus wished he knew what they were afraid of – nobody had told him what Morgaine's initiation will be because it was considered bad luck to discuss such matters in advance.

By now, Sirius was definitely curious. He had not seen Morgaine in days but he knew she's been in her grandmother's house, preparing for the initiation. Since they had come here, in the afternoon, they had been met by a great fire which had turned into a pile of embers. Then, Alain Montresorre had spread them with his wand in a circle. When Sirius had asked what it meant, Remus had told him that it was the symbol of the sun – one of the greatest symbol of the old religions on the Balkans – the birthplace of the Veelas. There was a strange music that was filling the night with agony and at the same time, ecstasy. No one talked. The embers were sparkling, the tunes were becoming quicker and more hypnotic and Sirius felt like dissolving into the fresh air. His thoughts led him to the happiest memories of his life – Angela, Cane touching the stars, being a dog for a first time – and then the worst – the moment when Healer Emerson told him that his baby will be born with a problem because of the _Cruciatus_, James and Lily's bodies, the street blowing open, the Dementors, Frank looking at him with contempt, telling him that Angela was dead… Then it all started again – Angela, Cane touching the stars, being a dog for a first time, Healer Emerson telling him… Sirius realized that it was due to the music which was steadily becoming brisker and more hypnotic.

And then Morgaine appeared and stepped in front of them.

She wore a long-sleeved red robe without any piece of embroidery, her silver hair was falling to the small of her back. She was bare-foot and nothing on her or her clothes was tied in a knot or plaited. Her face was animated but it was an animation that Sirius did not understand – a sick sort of animation that made him shiver. Her features looked lighted up by an ecstasy and at the same time, contorted by unbearable pain. Her eyes were deep and dark – wait, _dark_? Sirius blinked and found out that his imagination had not played a trick on him – Morgaine's usually so calm and so _blue_ eyes were now burning and black – completely black. She cocked her head to one side and then to the other, as if she was listening to something she could not quite hear, and Sirius understood – she was in some sort of trance. The very thought of it made him sick, but what followed next was worse. Her expression softened and there was a delight on her face, and Sirius knew what she would do even before she did it.

"You lot are all mental!" he whispered and started to his feet but Raymond Lupin, who was sitting next to him, grabbed his hand and forced him to sit back. "Don't!"

Sirius watched helplessly as Morgaine, still deep in her trance, stepped to the edge of the glowing embers and then stepped _into_ the embers. By Remus' uneven breathing and clenched fists, he could say that his friend was desperately fighting the need to run to the fire and take his daughter out of it, but he did nothing. Sirius waited for a shriek of pain, but nothing happened. Morgaine went to the middle of the ember circle and stood still for a moment.

And then she began dancing. She made a step to her right, then to her left, squatted and rose again, and then began waving motions that made her whole body vibrate. Remus let out a deep sigh of relief. Morgaine's face was now ecstatic; her fingers were locked together, her long hair flying in the air. Her movements were quicker and quicker, her body vibrating in the rhythm of the music, her red robe twinkling like a star. Her mouth opened and she released a long, deep cry.

Sirius shivered. He had never heard her produce any sound, except on the video record a few weeks earlier and now, he felt scared. What was that force that was guiding her – the force that could open her mouth and drag the sound out of it?

A few Veelas came to the clearing and joined them. All three of them wore simple robes with no knots or ties and Sirius could tell that the hypnotic music had greater effect on the three of them than any of the others. Their faces expressed tension and they looked as if they were trying to hear something. Yet, no one of them seemed to be affected by the same trance that had made Morgaine step over the embers. Alain had said that Veela Seers could predict future only twice a year when there was an equinox. Maybe all Veelas could enter the fire only on those days, except for those who were being initiated. The trance could explain why Morgaine was insensitive to the pain but not why in fact, there was no burning – her bare feet remained white and unscathed. Once or twice in her dance, she bent down and her long silver hair licked the sparkling embers – and nothing happened.

The time passed. Sirius could not say for how long he'd been sitting frozen on his seat, watching Morgaine dancing when Vivienne finally said, "It's time."

Remus nodded silently and Vivienne raised her voice, "Seer! Can you hear me?"

Morgaine looked around with eyes that were obviously seeing nothing.

"Seer! Can you hear me?"

Morgaine's head turned to the authoritative voice, as if she were blind. Sirius shivered.

"I ask you to tell us where Arion Lupin is at that moment."

For a few minutes, nothing happened and then Arielle screamed when the embers under Morgaine's bare feet suddenly rose to life. A moment later, Morgaine was wrapped in flames but they did not seem to hurt her – it was like they were caressing her, making her hair fly and her face even prettier. Then, they moved ahead, in front of her and formed a living picture: Arion Lupin, lying on a plank-bed, his face gaunt and awfully thin – and covered in bruises, with a long unkempt beard. Sylvie gasped. Next to the bed, there was a small balding man with frightened eyes. _Peter_, Sirius recognized him. While he was watching, Peter leaned against Arion and wiped the blood from his face. "Why are you so stupid, boy?" he whispered. "Don't you understand that you're inflicting all this to yourself?" He helped him drink a sip of water. "Why do you keep annoying him?"

Arion placed his head back on his plank bed. "Shut up," he said in a tired voice. "I'm weary enough as it is."

"I'm trying to help you," Peter said. "Look, I'm not telling you to turn to our side or anything, I know your family enough to know that you won't do this. Just stop challenging and insulting him. It's for your own good."

"For my own good?" Arion spat disdainfully. "Listen to me, Pettigrew, because I'm not going to say it again: you'd better keep a better watch on me because if I manage to escape, the second time you capture me will be on the Greek calends. And you, I'm going to kill you."

Peter opened his mouth but before he could say something, Arion lost conscience – and Morgaine lost control and the vision turned into flames again.

"It was not bad, for a first time," Vivienne whispered. "Now, we know that the boy is still alive but we still don't know where he is."

"Can she try again?" Raymond asked in a shaking voice.

Vivienne shook her head. "She's too young, she can't generate such a huge amount of energy for a second time this night. Look, she's going to get tired."

Arielle buried her head in Cane's shoulder; his face was as white as a sheet.

Morgaine did not resume her dancing. Instead, she began walking over the embers… Which were not embers at all but flames – real flames of a real fire. Her steps seemed to get slower and slower but she did not wake up from her trance.

With expression of obvious concern on her face, Vivienne took her wand and made an incantation to make the rhythm of the music slower. "She must get out of the fire before she wakes up," she whispered urgently.

"Why?" Sirius asked.

It was Cane who answered, "Because if she wakes up in there, she will be burned alive." His voice was shaking.

"Can't we _Accio_ her or something?" Sirius asked but Vivienne shook her head.

"No one should meddle while she is trance, otherwise she might lose her mind. She has to wake up on her own – we have to make her to leave the fire of her own before she wakes up."

The music now become slower, but more hypnotic, trying to make Morgaine follow the rhythm but to no avail. Her steps were slower and slower, and Sirius could tell that she would come out of her trance very soon, but still, she gave no indication of leaving the fire.

"I'll make the fire die down," Remus said, and raised his wand. He knew that it was dangerous, too, but what other choice did he have?

"No, wait!"

All eyes fell on Cane. He stepped in front of the fire. "I'll try something that could make her go out by her own. I hope. Give me a minute, and if it has no effect, do as you know."

He raised the wand he was holding in his hand – Mrs Black's wand, the wand that had killed Morgaine's mother.

"_Priori Incantatem_!"

Sirius had heard Harry describing the phenomena but nothing could have him prepared for the furious shaking of the wand that seemed to want to get out of Cane's hands, and then the smoke, and the dark form that fell on the ground and rose quickly. There were a few gasps when the others recognized Elise Lupin. Cane slowly lowered the hand with Mrs Black's wand. The ghost form of Elise Lupin stepped into the fire and went to Morgaine. "Come with me, child."

For a second time this day, Sirius heard Morgaine's voice, "I can't, Mum. I'm so tired. I want to sleep."

"I know, honey, but you can't. Not now. Come with me, come on."

"I can't."

"I'm going to help you. Just take my hand. Do it, Morgaine. Do it now!"

Morgaine reached for her mother's hand and with a surprisingly little effort, Elise led her through the flames. "Come on, honey. Just a little effort."

"I don't want to go anywhere," Morgaine said, "I want to stay with you, Mum."

There were tears on Elise face and she shook her head. "You cannot stay with me, my girl, not yet. There are people waiting for you. Come on, just two steps more. Your father is right there. Come on, Morgaine, do it!"

They were already at the end of the great fire. As pale as death, Remus stretched his arms and his wife pushed Morgaine into them. He grabbed her and his left hand reached to Elise's cheek.

The ghost stepped aside. "No," she said, "you can't touch me. If you do, you'll die."

She looked at him for a moment and then gave him a smile – a real, if sad smile. Then she went to Cane who was staring without taking his eyes off of her. Sirius felt panicked when the ghost stretched her hand – hadn't she said that her touch killed people?

Cane remained motionless and let her fingers slide right next to his cheek. "I miss you," he said, and she smiled for a second time that night.

"Better you missing me than I missing you," she said, and looked at Julian. "Of course, the same applies to Julian and Morgaine too."

She looked at Julian again, then at Remus who was still holding Morgaine, and blew a kiss at them. Remus made a move as if he caught the kiss, and then Elise disappeared.

"Damned woman," someone said right next to Sirius. He looked at Alain Montresorre's pale face. Alain angrily wiped a tear from his eye. "You can always count on Elise for a great theatrical gesture. Blowing a kiss, for Merlin's sake! She joked even with her own death!"

Remus left Morgaine on the ground. She seemed unconscious now. Vivienne and Raymond hurried to her and knelt beside her to check her condition. When they rose again, they both looked quite composed. "She's okay," Vivienne said. "That _Priori Incantatem_ was a genius idea, Cane. Probably you saved her from being burned or losing her mind."

"Is she… is she…fine?" Cane asked shakily.

"Vivienne is right," Raymond said. "Her heart and her blood pressure are fine, she's just sleeping and she will wake up normally. Let her rest."

Sirius' eyes flew from Morgaine's sleeping face to Cane's tearful one. There was still terror in his eyes and his hands trembled like mad.

Sirius remembered Cane's conversation with Arielle, then the scene that he had watched on the TV screen, and finally the ghost from a minute ago. '_Better you missing me than I missing you,_' Elise had said. '_I mean that Elise gave her __life__ to save mine and you cannot find it in you to give her daughter __a single year__ of the precious time that you want to spend with Harry__,'_ those had been Cane's words. Suddenly, Sirius knew what he had to do – not for Morgaine, for Cane. A face with green eyes flashed into his memory, and he sighed. _I'm sorry, Harry, but this time Cane comes first._

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28


	17. At Beauxbatons

_Thank__s to everyone who's reviewed before and after I reposted the story, especially to OpenSoulSurgery (who's been suspiciously absent for the last chapters)and teacher 123, who is constantly present._

**Disclaimer: Look at the previous one.**

Chapter 17

At Beauxbatons

_A few months later__…_

Sirius needed only two minutes in Morgaine's dormitory at Beauxbatons to know that he strongly disliked her two roommates, for hatred was not a feeling that a full-grown man should feel towards two girls at thirteen or fourteen.

"Well, well, if that is not Her Highness coming back," that was the way the first of them, Alys Something – Sirius did not bother to remember the French name – greeted her.

"Have you finally learned how to talk?" the other girl, Mimi Someone, added.

Morgaine ignored them and started to unpack her things. Padfoot watched the other girls angrily and then began growling threateningly, his ears flat.

"Take this beast out of here!" Alys said somewhat fearfully. Morgaine only smiled, reached for Padfoot's head and the big black dog stopped growling. Instead, his whole body began vibrating – if he were a cat, he would have surely started to purr by now, Morgaine's fingers scratching behind his ears felt so nice. Anyway, he did not stop looking daggers at the other two girls.

"Why did you bring him here, anyway?" Mimi demanded. "You know that we're allowed to keep only owls, cats, and toads in here. I bet that Madame Maximme will make you send it back as soon as she hears about that."

But Madame Maximme did not sent Padfoot back. In fact, as a trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix, she had been told the truth about his real identity. Which was more, she was aware about Morgaine being in potential danger and made everything she could do to keep her safe. Besides, she made no problem about Morgaine leaving the school for a few days around the day of the autumnal equinox. Morgaine was not the first part-Veela to be allowed to Beauxbatons and the Headmistress knew that the girl needed the Veela ritual. This time, however, Vivienne did not dare summon Morgaine's Seer power from fear that what happened the previous time might repeat and this time, her granddaughter might not escape intact. The energy that was needed for making a Veela prophecy was too great for such a young Veela to handle and might consume her strength, so she might not leave the fire in time. It was better not to risk it.

This time, Sirius was more composed about the whole Firedancing thing and even felt awe while he was looking at Morgaine, Vivienne, Isabelle, Alain, Michel and a few others – all in deep trance, all dancing on the embers, all graceful and tensed, and controlled. Again, Morgaine cried, and this time Sirius knew better than hope that she had suddenly started to talk again. It was only when she was dancing in the fire that she could produce any sound.

That inability to talk was one of the reasons why she was often disliked at Beauxbatons. It was the most obvious sign that she was not like the other kids, and many of them mocked her for that. Many girls, that was it. Boys might think that she was weird, but she was pretty; her silver beauty made her look somehow fragile, and that stopped them from throwing any insults at her. In fact, they were all mesmerized by her. Girls, however, were a different matter. Sirius knew that women could be very jealous of each other and, in spite of the fact that many of the other girls were beautiful, neither of them could hold a handle to Morgaine's looks. Hints, open offences, stealing her things – no, none of her female classmates would ever forgive her for her deep blue eyes and silver hair.

Sirius had never expected that she would be such a loner. She was not a freak! She was funny, and kind, and intelligent but almost nobody at Beauxbatons cared to find that out. Anyway, Morgaine did not seem affected by that altitude. She spent almost every wake hour reading in the library or in the common room. She was a real bookworm_. Just like Remus_, Sirius often thought. Well, if she was that much like Remus, he would treat her like he had treated him, which meant standing in her way when she was headed for the library, or whimpering pitifully until she agreed to take him out for a walk. He used to play fetch with her, or tugging her along when he decided to go out for a run. She laughed and looked genuinely happy. Sirius even took her to the forest surrounding the castle. He knew that it held no danger – he had inspected it closely while Morgaine and Julian had classes.

Julian. That was another thing Sirius was forced to become accustomed to. He had supposed that his second son's life was not an easy one but he had not been prepared to witness by first hand just how uneasy it was. Not that Julian was being bullied, not at all or at least, almost at all – the kid had a quick reflexes and a great aim, better than more of the seeing students here could master, so very few people dared come across his way. No, it was the careful avoiding of his presence, the way almost no one ever talked to him, the whispers behind his back about his blindness, about the _Cruciatus_ that he had become a victim of even before his birth, about Sirius himself and so on, and so on. For Sirius, who had been one of the most popular boys at Hogwarts, the discovery that his son was generally avoided was like a physical blow that filled his heart with guilt and shame. One simple count let Padfoot calculate that Julian had started his first year at Beauxbatons just when he himself had escaped from Azkaban – when every single newspaper had been graced with Sirius' image and the story of his supposed crimes. Every single newspaper, including the French ones. Blind and besides, a son of the most feared Death Eater – no wonder that Julian had automatically been claimed as an outcast at Beauxbatons. Not that the boy cared this much – Julian did not seem to crave attention the same way Sirius had craved it. Julian seemed perfectly happy with his two friends – Anath Lupin and Andre Lerois. He dealt with his problem just fine and was a good student – not as brilliant as Sirius and, if the rumors were to be believed, Cane once had been, but a very good student nevertheless. He was great in Charms, which Sirius thought was due to Angela's genes, and far beyond acceptable in Transfiguration. _That should be my genes in him talking._ Surprisingly, he was brilliant in Defence where he never missed his target – or maybe not so surprisingly, given the fact that he lived with Remus and through Elise, he was related to Dominic Montresorre – a famous former duelist who had trained many stars of the dueling world, – but he was a complete failure in Potions and Ancient Runes – quite understandably, because both subjects needed eyes to look at the ingredients and read the runes. What saddened Sirius most was the fact that Julian was not able to enjoy Quidditch or flying on a broom at all – great as he was in dealing with his problem, there were some lines that could not be crossed. _Ah, well_, Padfoot sighed when his thoughts led him in this direction, _it could have been worse – far worse. He has his brain intact and he's physically healthy, that's all that matters_. Besides, Julian had his friends – the red-haired Anath Lupin who could not care less for such things as school and marks and who could not care more about Julian. _She's as obvious about her crush_, Padfoot thought with a doggy smile, _as Ginny Weasley is about _her_ crush_. Well, time would help her overgrow this childish infatuation. Not that time had helped James get over Lily, of course, or Cane to get over Arielle, for that matter. _What is wrong with this girl anyway,_ Sirius often wondered. _It's obvious that she likes him, and he likes her back, so why does she keep behaving like this_?

Julian's other friend was Andre Lerois, one of his roommates. He was quite ordinary, perhaps not as powerful as Julian when it came to magic, but he did all right and Sirius liked him. He was a good friend, always stood by Julian and Anath and liked Transfiguration, Butterbeer, Quidditch – and Morgaine. It had taken time for Sirius to notice but it was impossible to miss, when you knew where to look at. Andre was in a hurry to be the first one when Morgaine needed a favor, he was always willing to let her use her spells on him when she needed to practice for the next lesson. He used to look at her when she was not looking at him and once, in December, Sirius saw him picking one of the animated porcelain figures that she used to create to entertain herself. She had forgotten to take it to her dormitory and Sirius saw Andre taking it and placing it on his nightstand. Andre liked Padfoot, too, even though he did not know that the dog was not a real dog. With Morgaine and Julian's permission, he sometimes took him out for a run, played fetch and liked to scratch his belly which, in turn, made Padfoot's liking of him grow. Truth be told, Padfoot liked everyone who could scratch him properly.

He also liked Arnaud Saint Claire, Morgaine's second cousin. The reason was simple: the boy looked like Harry very much, his mother being Emma Potter, James' cousin. He did not like the fact that the boy didn't have an adventurous bone in his body – he was seventh year and all for studying and dueling training! But when Arnaud returned after a two weeks break from school as a second in the World Championship, Padfoot did bark with joy. In fact, the boy was not so bad – he always spoke to him kindly. Something in his behavior made Sirius think that Arnaud was aware of his real identity. Why not – he was Cane's friend. But he never said anything to this effect. Of course, they met rarely – only when Padfoot had managed to whine his way into being walked.

And so, they lived. Sirius had a routine in his life now: wake up in the morning, go out for a run, explore the forest, change for a little while you were in there, go back to school, wait for Morgaine and Julian to come back from classes, wait for them to stop learning in the common room, take one or the other of them for a walk outside, growl menacingly to everyone who says something about them – the last activity did not take its special time, he used to do it each time he heard someone talking about the kids. Then, fall asleep, wake up the other day and all would begin anew.

It was boring as hell.

Harry was at Hogwarts, mourning him, and instead of helping and encouraging him, he was stuck here, playing a watchdog for a girl who was practically safe – the Headmistress seemed perfectly capable of taking care of Morgaine's safety. Two times Death Eaters had tried to reach the school and both times they had been stopped before entering. That meant that Morgaine was safe, so why was Sirius still here? Harry needed him, Morgaine did not. _Because I promised Cane_, he often reminded himself.

The change did not come at once.

Dreams were the first sign. They were not the nightmares that he had lived with while he was in Azkaban and even after that, no. They were good dreams, probably inspired by the way Julian smiled when he was reading in Brail a especially interesting book, or his laughter, when Padfoot tugged him by his sleeve, begging for a run on the lawn that was perfectly even and there was no danger for the boy to trip and fall. Being apart from the house that had driven him mad, Sirius could now see the last year of his life in a completely different light and that affected his dreams. He dreamed about Angela, and how he had sat with her in her Muggle doctor's consulting room, listening to some device that had let them hear the hurried pulse of their still unborn child. He dreamed about the warm feeling that this strong, loud sound had made him feel – the sudden hope that maybe, _maybe_ somehow the baby had escaped the consequences of the _Cruciatus Curse_ applied to his mother. He dreamed long dreams, in which he had never gone to Azkaban, in which Peter had not been made the Secret Keeper, in which he had told Angela about the change, dreams about what their life together would have been like – Angela, Julian, Cane, and he. He dreamed of Angela smiling out at him, of Julian showering him and not Remus with complete adoration, of Cane changing his face to entertain him and not other people. He dreamed of James and Lily being alive to raise their son, of meeting Elise in person, of playing the beloved uncle to Harry and Morgaine. He dreamed of teaching Julian how to use his walking stick, how to recognize people by their voices and footsteps, of going out with him to buy his first school supplies, and that was the beginning.

Ever since his escape, Sirius had connected the thought of the family he had lost with Angela and Cane alone. It was not that he did not care about Julian, because he did, it was only that Cane was the only one he knew – Julian had not even been born when Sirius had gone to prison. Sirius felt Cane's attachment to Remus as a real loss for himself because the love that Cane gave Remus had once belonged to him – Sirius. And Sirius had adored Cane back. Surely, he cared for Julian, he felt guilty about his being blind, he was jealous of the love Julian felt for Remus – but he never felt for him the same unconditional, almost painful love that he felt for Cane. Not until now.

With Morgaine, things were pretty much the same. Morgaine had a family of her own, a father of her own, and Sirius had met her only a year ago. It was only natural that Harry was more important to him than she was. And yet, slowly, just by living with them, Sirius felt his attitude change little by little, while one day, at the middle of December, he could not recall exactly how he could have possibly considered Julian and Morgaine not important enough and why it had come to the great quarrel between him and Cane for him to come here and take care of Morgaine.

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And so, the Christmas holidays came. Remus was not on the station to pick them, though – only Sylvie was. She brought them to her flat and explained that Raymond was at work and Remus had a task for the Order to finish before make an appearance. Sirius used the distraction of the children and took Sylvie to the other room.

"What is the task you were talking about?" he asked. "Where is Remus?"

"Trying to recruit werewolves on our side," the woman answered, and Sirius paled.

"But that's dangerous."

"I know," she sighed. "No one forced him to, I can assure you. He himself wanted to take this mission."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," Sirius said darkly. "It's so typically Remus. When is he supposed to come back?"

"In a few days, I hope."

"Well, I hope too," he muttered. "Have you heard of Harry lately?"

"Last time I saw Dumbledore, he said Harry was fine. He's going to spend Christmas with the Weasleys."

Sirius smiled, relieved. "That's good. It's nice to know that there is someone who will take care of him."

"Yes, and Remus promised that he would go there for the holiday itself to see how Harry was. At least, that is what he told us…" She smiled and Sirius shot her a suspicious look.

"What are you implying, Mrs Lupin?"

"I'm not Mrs Lupin," she said, but her smile did not vanish completely. "I heard that Nympha… Tonks was going to be there, too."

"And what does it have to do with anything?" Sirius asked, and her smile grew wider.

"It has something to do with the fact that Remus is going to spend Christmas there."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying your hand at matchmaking, Mrs Lupin?"

"Well, why not?" Sylvie laughed. "She likes him and he likes her, but Merlin knows that he himself isn't going to do anything about that. He deserves happiness. Besides –" She laughed harder, "– we all deserve a little laughter these days, and honestly, I've never been more amused than I was when I was watching Elise courting Remus."

"She did what?"

"She courted him," Sylvie repeated.

Yes, he had heard correctly the first time.

"He used almost the same lines he keeps using now – not good enough for her, too dangerous, too poor and so on. All in all, he had no intention of courting her, that's why she courted him. It was priceless, you know. Always pursuing him, cornering him, telling him that he was going to marry her – and his attempts to avoid her! At the end, he was hiding from her. Literally."

Sirius imagined the scene and burst out laughing. _Only Moony_, he thought, _can try to hide from a gorgeous woman who is crazy about him_.

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Cane came to visit the next day. Sirius noticed with concern that he had lost a lot of weight. In fact, his resemblance to Sirius from the Grimmauld Place period was striking and not at all pleasant. Sirius, on the other hand, had gained some weight at Beauxbatons and now looked healthier and had regained some of his good looks. Most probably working for the Order and at the same time, learning at the Auror training was really taking it out of Cane. Sirius stole a secret look at his hands, but they looked normal. Yet, he had the feeling that beneath the Metamorphmagus disguise, the joints were just as bloated as they had been in the summer. Cane certainly looked drawn and miserable enough for his chronic illness to return – if it had ever faded, that was it.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked him the first moment they were alone, and Cane nodded.

"Yes."

But Sirius could tell that he was lying. "Where is Arielle? Why isn't she with you?"

"She has some last shopping to do. She'll come later."

Sirius realized what Cane was not telling him: that he and Arielle could not stand being in each other's company anymore.

The young man poured himself coffee – in a tea-cup, Sirius noticed. "Do you really have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Are you living only on coffee, Cane?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"Fine, I'll stop, but eat something, for Merlin's sake, you look like a skeleton."

Cane laughed. "That doesn't mean anything. I might like look in this way and that's why I keep this appearance."

Sirius shook his head. Metamorphmagus or not, some things could not be hidden. Cane might change his face for all he liked, but he was not able to conceal the weariness, nor his slightly slower movements.

"If I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?" Cane suddenly asked, distracting him from his thoughts.

There was something in his voice that Sirius did not like at all. "It depends on the question," he said.

"You didn't want children, am I right? Not in the beginning, when my mother got pregnant."

Startled, Sirius looked at him but something in Cane's eyes made him realize that the answer was very important to his son. "The weeks before my wedding are quite blurred, I cannot remember almost any particular incidents. But one thing is graved very hard in my memory," he finally said. "I was not ready for a family yet, I felt, I'm sorry you have to hear that, Cane, I felt trapped. Maybe even desperate. I have spent seven years of my life at Hogwarts and I had planned the next few years ahead. I wanted to spend the greatest summer holiday ever and start the Auror training in the summer. I wanted to have fun and enjoy my freedom and my eighteen years. I wanted to hang in each night club in London. Instead, your mother got pregnant and all my hopes ended with my wedding – the wedding that I felt obliged for. The truth is, I would have married her anyway but not then. Not then. I was very scared and very, very angry. I made her life a pure hell."

Here, Cane chuckled slightly, obviously imagining the scene. He looked quite cheerful for someone who had just learned that his father never wanted him. Sirius returned the smile. "And so, we married and I changed. After I married your mother, I changed. I fell in love – not a schoolboy crush but love. I realized that it was great to be a husband, a father. As trivial as that might sound, I realized how happy I was to have your mother the day you were born." Sirius shook his head. "Ah, what a day that was." He remembered the screams, his fear for Angela's life, Mrs Lupin who had placed the newborn in his arms and how he had frantically looked around for someone who could release him from the white bundle… and merely seconds later, he had fallen in love with the same bundle. "Why are you asking me that?"

Cane shrugged. "No reason," he lied.

Sirius hesitated but Cane seemed in good disposition, so he asked, "You don't want children but Arielle does, is that it?"

Cane looked at him curiously. "So, you know about Arielle and me," he said. "Are we that obvious?"

Sirius smiled. "Sometimes. Excuse me for asking you this, but what sort of relationship do you have? You certainly don't look happy."

Cane did not answer immediately. Obviously, he had relented towards Sirius during the last months, because only six months earlier, he would have snapped at him for sticking his nose where it didn't belong. "We love each other very much," he finally said, in a soft voice. "And yet, we are not happy. We don't even have a relationship. The reasons about that are too many. First, Arielle cannot have children. She knows that I love children and doesn't want to rob me of the experience to have my own. I tell her in vain that I love her even without children, that I want her just the way she is. She doesn't believe me." He drained the tea-cup of coffee. "Besides, you know how werewolves are treated. She doesn't want to risk my being exposed to the same treatment."

There was no mistaking the hurt in his voice. Sirius asked, "But why do you think she can't have children? Other female werewolves have children."

Cane stood up and looked through the window. "Sirius, you just don't understand," he said. "Arielle has never spent a full moon without the Wolfsbane Potion. She had always kept the wolf submitted but a pregnancy would change everything. She won't be able to drink the potion."

"Why?"

Cane shrugged. "It's hard enough to keep the wolf at bay," he said. "Just think of how it would affect a little baby, who isn't even fully formed yet."

Sirius thought about that and slowly nodded.

"If she ever gets pregnant, she won't be able to drink it," Cane went on, "and then the wolf would want to punish her for subduing it all that time. She might not come out alive."

" Oh. I didn't know…"

"Never mind that now, tell me how was it at Beauxbatons?"

Sirius smiled. "Normally."

"It wasn't too bad, I hope?" Cane asked, pouring coffee for both of them. Sirius had to refrain from saying that Cane had already had more than enough coffee. He did not want to think what his son's blood pressure was doing at the moment. Probably trying to outfly the last model of Firebolt.

"Not at all."

"Look," Cane suddenly said, "I really appreciate all you did those months and I think that it was enough. Aunt Sylvie can arrange for a few Aurors to be sent at Beauxbatons. You can be free of that obligation."

"Two Aurors," Sirius slowly repeated. "And, of course, they can't live in the dormitories, and everyone would know that they are there?"

"That's inevitable."

"So everyone will have the time to think of a plan how to get past them."

"Yes."

"No, better not," Sirius said. "I'm the best choice, mostly because no one will know that they should be careful about me."

Cane was obviously surprised. "You want to stay there?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Morgaine and Julian will be happy," he said. "They loved having you around, they told me themselves."

"That's good." Sirius fell silent for a moment. "She is important to me, too."

"I know she is."

"She didn't use to." Sirius took a sip of his cup. "Not as important as you wanted, not enough. Now, it's different."

"I know that, too." A minute or two they drank their coffee in silence. "And yet, you didn't leave her," Cane finally said, taking a biscuit, "no matter that she wasn't that important to you."

"I did it for you."

Cane nodded. "I know, and for that I'm really grateful. You did it for me, for Remus, for Elise."

They smiled at each other. "Now I want to do it for Morgaine."

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11


	18. Not Quite a Wedding

**Disclaimer: Well, you know al about that. I own nothing, etc…**

_Thanks to everyone who left me a review, I really, really appreciate them._

Chapter 18

A Failed Wedding

**A few months later****…**

"Messier Black. Messier Black!"

Sirius hated to be awoken all of a sudden. Following Padfoot's doggish instincts, he growled, still asleep, and tried to bite Hagrid's leg. _Wait, Hagrid's leg? What is Hagrid doing here? And if he isn't here, why does the intruder have such a big foot?_ He opened his eyes to find himself in the dormitory of Beauxbatons fourth years, his fur caught in the tight grip of the Headmistress herself.

"Messier Black!"

He could hear the murmur from above him – mostly Julian's voice who asked what was going on.

"I don't know," Andre Lerois answered, and Sirius looked at Madame Maximme's face. Was it only the candle light, or she really was as pale as death? Suddenly feeling very much awake, he jumped from Julian's bed and followed the Headmistress out in the corridor.

"Merlin, what does she want of Padfoot?" he heard Andre asking.

Madame Maximme led him straight to her study. Sirius always used to wonder how on earth anyone could do any real work in that sea of soft sofas, silk draperies and souvenirs, but it seemed that the Headmistress did her job just fine. As soon as he was sure that they were alone, he transformed and sat on the sofa pointed by her. Now, he took a better look at her face and realized that she was far more upset than he had thought before – her dark face was now completely white, her lips were moving, as if she was whispering something to herself, and her deep dark eyes were full.

"What happened, Madame Maximme?" Sirius asked immediately, knowing that it could not be anything good.

"Dumbledore," she said in a low voice, as if scared that pronouncing the words would make them real. "He's… he's dead."

"What?" Sirius asked. Surely he had not heard right. Had she just said that Dumbledore was dead?

She nodded. "Professor McGonagall Firecalled me a few minutes ago. It's true. They found his body. The Death Eaters killed him. Harry Potter witnessed the whole thing."

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "How is he? Oh Merlin, he's fine, isn't he?"

"He is," the Headmistress said. "Professor McGonagall assured me that he was okay. But he saw – them – he saw them killing him. Dumbledore. One of their colleagues, what a shame."

Sirius fastened his eyes on her. He did not need to think twice, the name came out of his mouth immediately. "Snape," he said in a low voice, and she nodded again.

"Yes," she said. "There was a whole bunch of them, and there was a fight but no one was killed. No one except for…" Her voice died and she tried to blink away the sudden tears that filled her eyes again. Sirius delicately looked aside – he knew that for her, just like for him, the world had just changed. They had both relied on Dumbledore – everyone had. The world could never be the same anymore. _Snape! When I lay my hands on you…_ And then a sudden thought made him jump to his feet.

"Come on!"

Madame Maximme looked startled. "What?"

"There was a whole bunch of them, you said," Sirius said impatiently. "How did they enter Hogwarts? If they could enter there, then why not here… now, before the security measures tighten?"

Madame Maximme was a smart woman. She immediately understood what he meant and stood up quickly, raising her wand. "You don't mean that – Mademoiselle Lupin?"

Without talking, they rushed outside.

-––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Morgaine woke up suddenly. Her heart beating fast, she wondered whether the sound that she had heard was real or just a figment of her dreams. She poked her head through the curtains and her eyes met Alys'. Her classmate was lying in her bed, completely awake.

It was not a dream.

Not even a moment later, steps started to come closer and closer to their dormitory. Morgaine tried very hard to recognize the sound and soon realized that no matter how muffled they were, they were male steps.

Male steps in the girls' part of the dormitories.

Morgaine raised her wand and locked the door a moment before Alys could do the same. Their eyes met, full of panic. Whoever the man was, he was not someone who was supposed to be there. What would they do?

They both stood up and Alice rushed to Mimi's bed to wake her up. _Where is Sirius,_ Morgaine wondered, before she realized that this night, he had gone to sleep in Julian's dormitory. She looked around desperately. If only she could do something!

And then she gasped. _Of course! The cognac!_ The secret stash that Sirius had bought during the Christmas holiday! The bottle was not empty yet. She lighted the candles, knelt in front of her nightstand, and opened the door. The bottle was still where she had last seen it and Morgaine grabbed it with both hands, ignoring the other girls' startled looks, and impulsively kissed it.

"Do you drink?" Mimi asked. Without answering, Morgaine produced a box of matches with her wand, stood up and took her pillow, tearing her expensive linen pillow-case in strips with a maniacal grin that awfully mismatched her cold, fragile beauty.

"What are you doing? Are you mad?" Alys asked and then almost screamed when someone tried to open the door.

Morgaine made a movement, showing them to step as far from the door as possible and desperately tried to remember all the details from the Muggle movie that she had watched two years ago. While the person from the outside was trying to open it with bare hands – as if that would help! – she twisted one of the linen strips into a thick fuse and almost drawn it into cognac before smelling it. _Does cognac smell of fruit,_ she wondered, and then shrugged. _Why the hell not?_ She raised the bottle to her lips and drunk a solid sip, leaving her two classmates completely dumbfounded. The person from the outside bellowed "_Alohomora_" and the door shook. Morgaine stuffed the wet cloth into the neck of the bottle, grabbed the box of matches in her free hand and rushed to the wall, so that the opening door would hit her. With shaking hands, she lit one of the matches, brought it to the end of the fuse and looked aside, when it started burning. "Cheers," she whispered without a voice.

The door started opening slowly and her heart stopped. Why were they hesitating? Why weren't they coming in? _Hurry up, _she prayed silently_, while this thing hasn't exploded into my face yet_!

Sirius and Madame Maximme heard the explosion of the bottle and started running down the corridor. One flight of stairs, another corridor, and then a man with a red face, with no eyebrows or hair, reeking of burnt, came towards them, dragging the reluctant Morgaine with him. From first sight, Sirius realized that the pain of the burning prevented him from concentrating hard enough to perform a spell, so he could only drag Morgaine along with him but she was not making things easier: she was wriggling, trying to slip out of his grasp, tripping and falling over, only to detain him. Without losing a second, Sirius shouted the Disarming Spell and then tied the other man with ropes and left him lying on the ground. He told Morgaine to stay where she was and hurried after Madame Maximme who was already in the dormitory, dealing with the other night visitor who was just trying to make his escape. Seeing that there was no danger now, Sirius went back to Morgaine and impulsively hugged her, overwhelmed by relief. So, it had happened, finally. The Death Eaters _had_ tried to kidnap Morgaine. _Snivellus was right about that, _he thought, and then remembered what Snivellus had done that same day.

Something in Morgaine's breath made him look at her with confusion. "Princess, are you drunk?"

She shook her head no and made a gesture that told him that she had drunk only a little. Shaking his head, Sirius returned to the dormitory with her, saw the broken bottle lying on the floor, and realized what had happened. He burst out laughing. "Merlin, you aren't quite the fragile little thing that you look like, right? Next time, when your dad tells me to not underestimate you, I'll believe him." He looked at the bottle again and then at the stripped pillow-case. "You know what?" he chuckled. "_Courvoisier_ and linen strips, that's a bloody expensive Molotov cocktail."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**A few days later…**

During the year of his absence Grimmauld Place Number Twelve had not become a nicer place, Sirius decided. "Hello, Harry."

"Hello," Harry answered without looking him in the eye.

Sirius sighed. "I suppose you're angry with me?"

"Yes. No," Harry corrected himself. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm still shocked. When Lupin told me that you were alive, it was – " He shrugged. "I didn't see you at Dumbledore's funeral."

"I took care not to manifest my presence like that. I wanted for you to learn about that under different circumstances."

"I see."

Sirius suppressed another sigh. Great, now Harry was angry with him. Of course, he had the right to be and Sirius had known from the very beginning that sooner or later it would come to this. "Did Remus tell you the reasons for that decision?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, he told something about Voldemort trying to get hold of Morgaine."

"That's true. Last week, there was another attempt." Sirius smiled a little and tried to lighten the mood. "Not that she needed my help that much, mind you. She mixed a Molotov cocktail that blew straight into the attacker's face, leaving him look more disgusting than Kreacher."

"So, she isn't that defenseless," Harry stated in a calm voice.

That was not going well. Sirius forced his hands to stay fixed and said, "Look, Harry, I'm sorry about all this but Morgaine needed help. We were all afraid that Voldemort will try to kidnap her and I had to be there to protect her."

"Really? What about Lupin and Cane, and her uncle, and everyone else?" Harry's anger was starting to show. "Why did it have to be you?"

"Because I was an Animagus and besides, I was officially proclaimed dead. I would have been really dead, if Sylvie Lupin had not heard the noise from their veil and come to check what was going on. Nobody would have suspected Morgaine's pet to be, in fact, her protector. I was the best suited man for the job."

Harry knew that Sirius was right and yet, he could not help but think '_She has her father and her whole family and yet, she had to take you as well._' It wasn't fair!

"Besides, I wanted to do it. In fact, I needed to do it," Sirius said.

"You needed to do it?"

Sirius nodded. "I owe Remus too much for looking after my children for all those years. It's kind of repay."

"Really?"

Sirius sighed. "Look, Harry, I know you're angry but try and look at things from my perspective. I could have refused to go when I was suggested that, yes, but then Remus would have thought 'I took care of your children for so many years and yet, you cannot find it in you to give my child a single year of your life'. He wouldn't have said it aloud, but he would have thought it. Could I pay no attention to these thought of his?"

"No," Harry said.

"Imagine now that I wasn't there for the last attack. Then, Madame Maximme wouldn't have come to check on Morgaine and she would have fallen in Voldemort's hands, and he would have tortured her to benefit from her gift. Could I not think that maybe this wouldn't have happened, had I been there?"

"No," Harry repeated.

"Later, when she would have been disappeared like her cousin Arion, when I look at Remus, Cane, and Julian, I will remember that Remus' wife gave her life to save my son's life and I've just left her daughter to her fate. Could I have put up with this thought?"

"No," Harry repeated for third time. "But what I want to know is, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were _dead_!" he suddenly exploded.

"I know," Sirius admitted in a subdued voice. "But there was a life on the stake, Harry, we couldn't take the risk."

"The risk? I can keep secrets!" Harry said indignantly.

"I know you can, and that Ron and Hermione can keep secrets too. I didn't mean it like telling someone who shouldn't have known. I thought more around the lines of doing something that involuntarily could reveal the fact that I was alive and then, someone could have made the connection to the big black dog that Morgaine and Julian had. It was dangerous, Harry. The less people knew, the safer it was."

"I can keep secrets," Harry said stubbornly, still looking at the rug and not Sirius.

"I know that but Cane doesn't."

"Cane," Harry said. So, it was true. From the first moment he heard the story, he was sure that Cane something to do with it. Sirius would not do that to him – at least not on his own. Cane, however, was an entirely different matter. Cane, who was so protective of his siblings – Cane who had physically _hit_ Sirius without any consequences. Cane, who was instantly forgiven by Sirius no matter what he did or said. "I thought so. It was Cane's idea, to go there without telling me, right?"

"Yes, but do not judge him too hard, Harry," Sirius said, in a lower voice this time. "Cane was afraid. He was terrified by the very thought of Voldemort laying his hands on Morgaine. He wanted to be sure that she was safe and he doesn't know you or your ability to keep secrets."

"No, I suppose he doesn't, "Harry said pensively. "But you –?" He met Sirius' eyes.

Sirius did not avert his gaze. "He has never asked anything of me before," he said simply.

"What? You mean, you did it only because – ?"

Sirius nodded. "Because I needed to give him something. Because I cannot give up on my son. I tried – I said to myself that he didn't want me or need me, that Remus gave him all he needed, but it didn't work. He exists. He is my son. I cannot live without the hope that one day he will let me come closer to him. I could not refuse him the only thing he ever asked of me – a thing that was very important for him, to know for sure that Morgaine was not endangered."

Harry could not believe what he heard. All that – suffering for the loss, accusing himself of being the reason for Sirius' death – all that had happened only because something was important for Cane? Cane who had treated Sirius awfully? "But he is – " He did not finish the phrase.

Sirius smiled. "I know. I know how he is better than anyone – he has taken his temper from me. But no matter how he feels about me, that doesn't change the way I feel about him. I love him very much. I love him even when I hate him for making my life a mess like no one else does. I could not refuse taking care of the girl that he considers his sister." Sirius hesitated but decided to say it anyway. "And besides, on the day of Christmas he told me that I could leave Beauxbatons if I wanted to. I chose not to."

"Why?"

"Because by that time, I wanted to help Morgaine, and not because Cane asked me to. I got to know her, and Julian – I wanted to get to know them better. It was a very complex thing, my decision was – for Morgaine, for Cane and Julian, for the debt I still feel that I owe to Remus and his wife. I had to do it."

_You had to, really? And where is my place __in the picture_, Harry thought angrily and stood up. "Fine," he said. "Now, I'll take my leave. I still have to spend the weeks to my birthday at the Dursleys' place , you know."

"I do," Sirius sighed. "I know you have the right to be angry with me, Harry, but I'll tell you something. When I think about the past, I see that ever since your birth, I've placed you before my own children and for at least one of them, the consequences were tragic. Remember the day when Julian was hit by the _Cruciatus_?" Harry nodded. "What Cane said then was awful, but it was true. That day, I preferred you and your family to my own wife and children and the result is that Julian is blind. No matter how sad and angry you were about my supposed death, it would pass. Julian, on the other hand, will never stop being blind. This time, I made the other choice. I could not live with myself if they lost Morgaine because of my carelessness. Just try to understand that, for once, my children had to come first."

Harry left without another word. With a sigh, Sirius left the room too.

"_Dieu_, this little…" Charles Montresorre hissed, emerging from the small room, where he and Arielle had found themselves trapped by Harry and Sirius' entering. They had started talking so soon that Charles and Arielle had not been able to leave without announcing their presence – the only way out was through the bigger room. So, they had been forced to eavesdrop on the whole conversation. "Did you hear him?" he whispered furiously. "He behaved like Black should always place him first – before Morgaine, even before Cane!"

"I heard," Arielle said coolly. "Calm down, Charles," she added. "He was just confused."

"I bet he was," the young man smiled bitterly. "God, I'm starting to see what your father meant by saying these things about James Potter – that people like him could do lots of sorrows not because they are bad – they are good in their souls – but because they never think of the way their actions can affect other people."

Arielle refrained from answering. Truth be told, she was furious at the little Potter even more than Charles was, but she saw no use of making her cousin angrier. She knew that there was something more than just anger on Cane's behalf. It seemed that for a first time, Charles had truly realized just how James and Lily's carelessness had led to the multiple deaths in Montresorre family during the first war and had left him living with his uncle.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A week later__…_

The excitement in the Burrow was contagious. Harry, who already was very happy for leaving the Dursleys for one day at least, needed little persuasion to join the fun. The way Fleur, Mrs Weasley and Fleur's mother seemed to have lost their minds because of the upcoming wedding, was really entertaining, at least when it wasn't infuriating. He, Ron and the twins had escaped in the most distant part of the garden and were talking animatedly – about Quidditch, of course, and how great Oliver Wood was now, about the jokeshop and so on. Hermione had come at the Burrow the day before and Harry and the twins were teasing Ron about his new romantic interest, making his ears redden. Everyone was happy, including Cane Black who had just come; they could see him in the distance, talking animatedly to Fleur's mother and smiling.

"He looks like hell," George said, meaning Cane. Harry couldn't agree more: Cane's handsomeness and charm seemed unchanged, but his face was sunken and exhausted, with eyes that looked unnaturally big, so thin he had become. Harry thought that Cane looked worse than Tonks had looked in winter, and realized that this fact made him feel better.

Sirius and Lupin joined the conversation and said something that made Isabelle Delacour shake her head; her answer made the three men laugh, and then Sirius turned to Cane and asked him something. Cane only shrugged in response and Harry bit his lip. There was no denying the change now: despite being upset for Harry still being angry at him, Sirius looked better now, calmer, less tensed. Cane had changed too: the invisible shield that he used to keep Sirius away was now gone. At least Cane did not seem like he had changed his altitude towards Lupin or at least, Lupin did not look concerned about the change in Cane's behavior toward Sirius, Harry noticed with relief. Great, just great. Cane had Lupin, so why was he trying to take Sirius too?

The time was getting on. Before the boys knew it, Ginny came to pick them and took the opportunity to mutter for the last time about the Phlegm, who would be impossible to get rid of, now. The guests were arriving already and the four boys had no other choice but follow Ginny back to the madness – they meant the wedding. Of course. The wedding.

Sylvie Saint Claire was one of the last people to come. She was still dressed in her Ministry robe and Ginny muttered that Isabelle Delacour had said that Sylvie would come directly from France. Anath, Julian and Morgaine were with her.

"Do you think it's true?" Ron asked. "That she made something explode in a Death Eater's face?"

"It is," Harry said, "Sirius told me so."

Ron shook his head. "But she's so small," he muttered. "And so blond."

Ginny looked at him as if he had the most foolish thing ever. "And what of that?"

Instead of arguing with Ginny, Ron tugged Harry's sleeve and they went to find Hermione, who was already dressed in her blue robes, with her hair held back by a silver diadem. "What do I look like?" she asked, embarrassed.

Ron seemed too taken by her to answer, and so it came to Harry to assure her that she looked great. She muttered something of 'they made me wear this' and the three of them started talking about other things, hoping to escape the topic of the wedding madness. Unfortunately, lately all their conversations somehow ended with the identity of the mysterious R. A. B. and the false locket that Harry always wore with him. They were still discussing all the possibilities when Sirius and Cane came to them, still arguing about something. "Hello, kids," Sirius said, obviously probing to see whether Harry was still angry with him or not.

"Hello, Sirius," Harry said coolly, not looking away from the note. Sirius looked at it too and something caught his attention. Without thinking, he snatched the note, ignoring Harry's protests, and read it.

"Impossible!" he said at the same moment when Cane fastened his eyes on the locket and they grew wide, while sudden memories began filling his mind all at once.

"Merlin!" he breathed.

Sirius shook him. "Cane!" he said urgently. "Are you well?"

Hermione was already on her feet. "I'll bring you water. Sit here, sit here, you look like you're going to faint."

"No!" Cane said. "No water, I'm fine."

"The hell you are!" Sirius growled. "What's wrong with you? I told you that you should eat from time to time, but no, you always know better, don't you?"

Cane paid no attention to him. "You should have showed this to me!" he exclaimed. "Don't you understand? You should have showed it to me!"

"Why?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him, making him temporarily forget that he was angry with both Blacks – father and son.

"Where did you take it from?" Cane asked. "Did you find the cave? The blood tax? The lake? The bowl that could be drained only by drinking the liquid? Yes, I can see that you were there."

"How do you know all this?" Harry gasped.

"He took me there," Cane said. "I saw him replacing the real Horcrux with this one."

"A Horcrux?" Sirius asked, horrified. "Voldemort has a _Horcrux_?"

"Horcrux_es_," Harry corrected him. "Seven of them."

Sirius closed his eyes. "Dear Merlin."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Cane, who is the person that made the replacement?"

"My brother," Sirius said. "Regulus."

"He is R. A. B.?" Hermione asked in a shocked voice.

Sirius nodded. "Regulus Arcturus Black."

"What do you mean, he took you there?" Ron asked Cane.

"I was there with him. I saw everything. He placed a Memory Charm on me, so I could remember it one day – today."

"Well, if you've seen how it happened, you should know where the real locket is," Hermione said.

"Of course I know," Cane answered. "In fact, I'll bring here the person who has it."

"A person?" Sirius asked. "Regulus didn't hide the Horcrux in a safe place but _gave_ it to someone? Honestly, this boy was unbelievable." He shook his head. "Please tell me that he didn't give it to some of his Death Eater buddies?"

"I don't think that she was a Death Eater," Cane said.

"A woman?"

Without answering, Cane took the false locket from Ron's hands and tapped it with his wand. "_Accio_!"

A moment later, a woman appeared in front of them. She was fair-skinned, with dark eyes and hair and very beautiful, somewhere in her middle thirties. Before someone could say anything, she exclaimed, "It was about time!"

"It was about time for what?" Cane asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"For you to remember, kid. I was already worried that your father's genes had impaired your mental process."

"Well, thank you very much," Sirius interrupted. "Now, would you mind to tell us, with your superior brain cells, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I am bound to that false locket," the woman said. "When Cane made the Summoning Charm, I had no choice but Apparate here. Mind you, it was the worst time for me to do so. Now, I'll have to make a Memory Charm to six guests in order for them to forget that their hostess has disappeared from the dinner table right in front of them."

"I knew that the boy knew how to pick the best moments," Sirius said.

"Madame Lerois," Cane interjected, recognizing the mother of his two classmates, Noel and Cissy. "What's going on here? If I am not mistaken, you told me that you and Sirius weren't friends."

"We weren't," she confirmed. "I was born Selena Black and I am your father's sister – your father's and Regulus'."

"Oh." Cane said, and she smiled. Cane looked at Sirius who nodded with a dark expression.

"Your name wasn't on the tapestry," Cane said, and Selena shrugged.

"I thought that might be the case. I saw my mother burning Sirius' name out of it."

"No, I mean, there was no name at all – no name, no burning. It's like you never existed."

Her eyes flashed with interest. "Can I have a seat?" she asked, and Ron, ashamed that he was supposed to be the host here, but had left her unseated, stuttered something and asked her to take an armchair next to them. "Well," she said, answering to Cane's question, "I suppose it had something to do with my marriage. I never knew that there was a charm that could make a name disappear like it has never been there."

"You should know better," Sirius said. "After all, _you_ disappeared just like that – like you've never been there. Why did you do it?"

She laughed. "Such care, I'm moved to tears. What a pity that it's twenty years late. Do not pretend to be interested in my reasons, Sirius, because I know you aren't."

They shot hateful looks at each other and Sirius explained to their young viewers, "Selena was the perfect Slytherin and the perfect daughter until she disappeared two days before her wedding. We never heard of her again, so nobody knew why she did it."

"You try!" Selena cried. "You try and marry Lucius Malfoy!"

"I'd rather not," Sirius answered dryly.

"Well, I thought the very same thing. God, let him and Cousin Cissy be happy forever and ever and as far from me as possible."

"Amen," Sirius muttered, and Selena laughed.

"Do you realize that we actually _agreed_ on something? The hell has just frozen."

"Too true," Sirius said. "Where is the locket?"

"You don't think I have it with me right now, do you? It's hidden in France."

"France!" Sirius exclaimed. "Is that where you live now?"

"Yes, I live in France, and I have a son at Beauxbatons."

"You do?" Sirius asked and tried to imagine which one of the kids that he had met during the last year, could be her son.

She smiled. "Yes, and thanks to that, I can say that Julian was not rotten by the power of your genes. He's really nice and all, you know, I can hardly believe that he is related to you."

Something clicked in Sirius' mind. "Andre!" he exclaimed. "Andre Lerois!" He could hardly believe that.

Selena looked surprised. "Do you know him?"

"I do. But he said that he was – half and half – and you're a witch, so that means that his father – "

She sighed patiently. "Really, Sirius, why do you think that I disappeared from the tapestry without a trace?"

Sirius looked at her and suddenly burst out laughing, desperately trying to say something between the fits.

"Sirius," Harry said, "Sirius, what is so funny?" He had forgotten that he was angry with his godfather.

"A Muggle!" Sirius wheezed. "A Muggle! Not even a Muggleborn. A Muggle!"

He choked with laughter. Selena calmly went to him and whacked him hardly on the back, which helped him find his breath again. "Thank you," he muttered mechanically.

"Well, if you've finished with discussing my marriage, I'd like to meet your young friends, but now I really don't have the time. As I said before, I have six Memory Charms to perform. See you tomorrow, right?"

"Grimmauld Place," Sirius answered shortly. "And bring the locket with you this time."

"Fine. Goodbye, Cane, children." And she left, because she could not Disapparate from the house itself – her bounding to the false locket was over.

"What a woman," Cane muttered. "I can hardly believe that she's related to us."

Harry could easily believe it. Selena had the same air of unconscious arrogance that Sirius and Cane himself had. Her whole demeanor seemed to be saying, "It's me. I'm just like you see me. And I don't want to be another. Why would I, when I'm the perfection itself?" Oh yes, she was a Black, no doubt about that.

"It seems to me that she has found some time to spare," Cane said from the window. "She's talking to Morgaine. In fact, they're walking outside together."

Sirius grinned. "Her son has a crush on Morgaine," he explained to the teenagers.

"That might explain it," Hermione agreed.

"He has _what_?" Cane asked sharply. "Morgaine is only fourteen!"

"That's just what I mean," Sirius smirked, and Harry thought that he had been fourteen when he had a crush on Cho Chang.

"Are they still there?" Sirius asked, and Cane shook his head.

"No, they're almost outside already." And then he cursed and grabbed his wand, hurrying to the door.

"Cane! What is it?" Sirius cried after him.

Cane did not turn. "Dedalus Diggle. He was supposed to have the guard out of the garden but he's in there, he must have come for a glass of juice or something!"

Sirius cursed himself and rushed after Cane, who was shouting at the top of his lungs, "Morgaine, do not go outside!"

But they were too late. In fact, they came out just in time to see how, only seconds after Selena Black – Selena Lerois – had Apparated away, a dark figure emerged out of thin air and Disarmed the surprised Morgaine. A moment later, they were gone.

"No!" Cane whispered. Sirius himself could not believe that after a year spent in dog form at Beauxbatons, after three failed attempts of kidnapping and a Molotov cocktail, the Death Eaters had just disappeared with Morgaine.

And then the hell broke free.

The guests started shouting and pulling their wands when the space outside the garden was suddenly filled with dark figures in black robes. Fortunately, everyone had realized that the wedding must be the perfect time for the Death Eaters to attack and they were ready. But they had not expected that Voldemort's people would be so many! Sirius and Cane, who were the one closest to the garden gate, met the first attacks. They lost no time. While Sirius was shouting "_Expelliarmus_!", he heard Cane yelling "_Engorgio_!" and then a choking sound, when one of their attackers began suffocating by the pressure of his own swollen tongue. Sirius threw an _Impedimenta_ at the Death Eater right in front of him and then dodged quickly to evade the _Cruciatus_ that followed. With the tail of his eye, he saw Cane doing the same. The other guests also started sending spells; in the middle of the mess Sirius saw Harry who was just Petrifying one of the hooded figures. _Why can't this kid just stay out of trouble_, he thought and moved to him to shield him just when Cane shouted "_Rotate_!" and the receiver of the curse started whirling around an invisible pillar with lightning speed. He almost laughed – he could not help it. It was bloody funny to look at harmless prank spells being cast in a way that made them effective weapons. Oh, Cane used the usual stuff like _Expelliarmus_, _Impedimenta_ and so on, but he preferred prankster spells that were not so prankster after all. Sirius saw Cane's next victim running around, unable to cast a single spell because his or her hands were glued to the body. He smirked – and then shouted with horror, when a few red lights hit Cane at the same moment. Cane fell on the ground, unconscious. Sirius rushed towards him but then one of the Death Eaters stood over Cane's body and looked at him, with surprise on his face. "He's still breathing!" he exclaimed with disbelief, and pointed his wand at him. "_Avada_ – "

"_Avada Kedavra_!" a female voice shrieked, and the Death Eater fell over Cane, hit by the green light that had come out of Arielle Lupin's wand. Arielle knelt quickly beside them and pushed the corpse aside, checking on Cane. Sirius looked at her, not daring to breathe.

"He's alive," she said, as white as a sheet, and then Sirius caught the limp body in his arms and hurried to the house.

"Give him to me, give him to me!" a familiar voice bellowed, and Raymond Lupin appeared out of nowhere. Sirius hesitated for a moment, but Raymond was the Healer there, so he let him take Cane. When they reached the house, Raymond placed Cane on the first sofa on his way and started checking on him. Sirius hesitated again, but here, there was no use of him, so he joined the battle again.

Half an hour later, they had one of the guests – a distant relative of Molly's – killed and three of the Death Eaters were arrested. Five others were dead. But Sirius cared about nothing of that. He was looking at Raymond, who was just applying some disgusting looking potion on Cane's chest to ease his breathing – though Sirius could not say whether there was breathing at all.

"Seven Stunners in the chest," Harry whispered. "Seven!"

Cane made no movement. His face had lost all its color and he was still unconscious. In a very controlled voice, Raymond told them to inform St. Mungo to prepare for another patient, without moving his hands from Cane's chest.

"He'll die, he's going to die!" Anath Lupin cried between her sobs, and then her sister turned to her and slapped her face. Hard.

"He is not going to die!" Arielle yelled. "He's going to be alright, do you hear me? He's going to be alright, and I won't let anyone – " She glared at the other people in the room, "– anyone say otherwise!"

For a moment, Sirius looked at her and then looked at Cane again. _She really loves him_, he thought. _I can see that she's never casted an Unforgivable before. Everyone says how romantic it is to die for the one you love, but I think that in a way, it's harder to kill for someone than die for them. And Arielle did it. For Cane._

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18


	19. In the Hospital

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. What a pity…**

_Thanks to everyone who left a review here, I really appreciate that._

Chapter 19

Sirius hated the smell of hospitals. It was not the air, it was the feeling of worry and hopelessness that clung in the air. The smell of death. Or maybe it was just the way he felt it, waiting to hear something – and they were all silent. He had the feeling that in one moment or another each one of the Healers at St Mungo's had passed through the room where Cane was lying, but no one said anything – neither good nor bad. Raymond was the only one who ever said anything – that Cane was alive. Unfortunately, his exact words had been 'still alive', which did not sound very encouragingly. Of course, with seven Stunners straight in the chess it was a miracle that Cane was still breathing and Sirius knew that. He did not need to close his eyes to see the red lights and Cane falling.

He looked at the cup that he was holding, and briefly wondered which one it was. For the sixteen hours that he had spent here, he must have drunk a sea of coffee. Now, he did not even feel its taste. That was the most awful waiting in the world. He could recall only two similar occasions – when Cane was being born and things were not looking good and when Angela and Cane had been hit with the Cruciatus. He remembered coming here, at St. Mungo's, day after day and hearing nothing precise.

"Everything will be all right," Julian whispered next to him. "Cane always gets away with stuff. He'll do it again."

"Of course he will," Remus answered, his voice sounding as unsure as Julian's had.

Arielle was sitting on the other coach, with Fleur Delacour next to her. _Poor Fleur_, Sirius thought. _She should have been on her honeymoon instead of here._ This was such an awful ending of the wedding. _But she will marry Bill and everything will be fine. Everything, Cane included._ Unfortunately, Sirius could not quite convince himself in that.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Sirius looked at Harry and shook his head.

"Maybe she will want something, she looks worse than everyone else," Harry continued, looking at Arielle but did not dare to come near her. The young woman's face was deathly pale and her eyes were wide with fear, but she kept herself under stoical control – at least when nobody dared to say that Cane might not make it. The others had learned very fast to hold their dark prognosis for themselves.

"You should go home, Harry," Sirius said. "You need rest."

Harry shook his head. "I'd rather stay here."

_I'd rather not have you here_, Sirius thought. _I don't want anyone who isn't whole-heartedly willing for him to recover to be near him. And I know that you don't like him._ He could not say that aloud, though, so he only hoped that sooner or later Harry will grow tired of the ceaseless waiting and leave by himself.

"Oh," Harry suddenly said and walked away. Had he read Sirius' thoughts? No, he had just seen the person who was hurrying down the corridor. He stood up and went to meet her.

"What are you doing here?"

Selena raised an eyebrow. "Well, hello to you too, Sirius."

"I asked what you were doing here," he said coldly. "Came to see whether he still was alive to make a report to your Death Eater buddies, am I right?"

She shot him a disbelieving look. "You're mad," she said.

"Am I? I saw you!" he exploded. "You were one of them!"

Selena's face hardened. "Keep your voice down!" she hissed. "We are in a hospital, in case that you have forgotten about that little detail."

"Do you really think I could forget that we are in the hospital where _my own son_ is fighting for his life?"

Her face softened. "I heard about this," she said. "How is he?"

His expression of pure hatred did not change one bit. "You must be mad if you think that I could give you any information concerning my son, Death Eater."

Selena's hand cut the air and Sirius seized it before she could hit him, and squeezed hard. Selena did not even flinch.

"Leave her!"

Without releasing his sister's hand, Sirius gave Raymond a distasted look. "That's no concern of yours, Raymond!" he growled, angry at himself that he hadn't heard the man approaching.

"The hell it is not! Leave her alone. Selena, are you well?"

"Yes," she answered in a low voice, "yes, Raymond, thank you."

Sirius looked at her white face, swore and released his grip. Raymond took the woman's hand, inspected the red marks and then he and Sirius shot each other disgusted looks, their mutual antipathy coming to the surface. "You could have broken her fingers, Black."

"Really, Raymond, I don't know why I'm surprised to see you defending a Death Eater – again."

Raymond laughed disbelievingly. "A Death Eater? Selena? I understand that you're upset right now, but that's too much."

Selena shook her head. "No, Raymond, thank you, but I can handle him on my own."

"Really? I didn't know you two knew each other."

A sudden suspicion began forming in Sirius' mind. "Dear, _dear_ sister," he said sarcastically, "am I right in assuming that you never told Raymond – I'd like to know how the two of you met, by the way – you never told him that the two of us were related?"

"Very right," she agreed in a cold voice. "I'm sorry, Raymond."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

Selena shrugged. "Well, would _you_ want to manifest that you are related to the most famous Death Eater ever?"

Raymond's face remained inscrutable and he nodded slowly. "No, probably not," he said.

"She herself is a Death Eater!" Sirius exploded. "She was there when they took Morgaine, I saw her!"

"And you were there when Pettigrew blew the street up," Raymond answered sharply. "I work with Selena for years. Eight years, to be precise. She's not a Death Eater, I can assure you."

"Oh, thank you, Raymond," Selena said softly, touched by his trust. They were not friends, but they were good colleagues and she had always respected him for his Healing abilities, for his fairness and, most important, for his loyalty. It was nice to know that he held the same respect for her.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She nodded.

"Fine. Then, I'll leave you to your – discussion." And he left.

Selena sighed. "I'm not a Death Eater, Sirius. Why do you think I have something to do with the whole mess at the wedding?"

"They took her just after you Apparated!"

"And, of course, I had foreseen that Cane would activate my bond to the locket. Tell me, Sirius, do you remember how many seconds passed until I Apparated there? Two or three? Hardly enough time to organize a conspiracy, don't you think?"

"If you weren't one of them," Sirius insisted, "then how do you know about the attack?"

Selena raised her eyebrows. "The usual way – by reading newspapers. You lot are the current news. My children were besides themselves with worry when they read about that."

Sirius looked aside. "I like Andre, he's a nice kid," he said – the closest thing to apology that he could offer, as well as a very stupid thing to say, because her eyes narrowed.

"I'd like to know how is that you two know each other," she said, and Sirius fell silent.

"How is Cane?" she asked. Again, Sirius said nothing. "This bad?"

"Several Stunners at the same time," he replied shortly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Look, I have to go back, I just wanted to tell you that the – well, _it_ was safe. Whenever you're ready, I'll bring it to you."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Good luck," she whispered, and left the hospital.

"Cane's going to need it," Julian whispered from his coach.

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**Two ****hours later…**

"Miss Lupin?"

Arielle looked up to the Auror in front of her. "Yes?"

"Miss Arielle Lupin?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I am Auror Dawlish."

"Oh."

Noticing the arrival of his former Hufflepuff classmate, Sirius slowly rose to his feet and came near. "Is there a problem, Dawlish?" he asked mildly.

The Auror obviously shared Sirius' not so sweet memories of their acquaintance, because he shook his head firmly. "No, Black, I just need to settle some things with Miss Lupin here."

Arielle sighed. "I know, but now isn't the best time. Can't you wait for a few days?"

"I'm afraid I can't, Miss Lupin."

She shrugged. "Okay, then."

"Good. I've arranged for a free room where we could talk."

He motioned with his head at a door at the far end of the corridor. Arielle stood up and went up the corridor.

"Go with them," Remus whispered in Sirius' ear, and his friend nodded: Dawlish was not known for being kind to half-humans. They surely would not leave Arielle alone with him and since Sylvie was helping the Ministry with the investigation of the case and Raymond was nowhere in sight, Sirius was the only one who could make sure that Arielle was okay. Well, Mr Lupin could do just as well, but he was not a falsely condemned ex-prisoner, so the Ministry officials had no reason to be careful around him. No, it had to be Sirius.

"I did not request your presence, Black," Dawlish said when they entered the room.

"Right," Sirius agreed, "but since her father isn't here, I think that she needs my support." _Or_ _at least_, _she is going to need it, if it depends on you, Dawlish_.

For a moment, Dawlish hesitated and then decided to ignore Sirius' presence. "Please, take a seat, Miss Lupin," he said in a polite voice.

She sat next to the window. The two men remained unseated. "Yes, Auror Dawlish? How can I help you?"

"I was informed that you took part in the yesterday fight, Miss Lupin."

So, that was it. Sirius was not surprised – he had expected it. He wondered for a moment whether Arielle had expected that, too. Her face remained calm. "Yes," she said, "it's true."

"The Ministry was told that you used the Killing Curse."

Why was Dawlish being so polite? Sirius had heard stories about how the man treated half-humans, so why was he being different now?

"Yes, that's true."

"Looking at your great results at your education at Beauxbatons and having heard of your parents, I suppose you do know that it is one of the Unforgivable Curses?"

So, that was the reason for Dawlish' strange behavior – he was afraid of meddling with people like the Deputy Head of the Aurors in the French Ministry of Magic and one of the most famous Healers at St. Lazarre's. How typical.

Arielle looked at the man as if he were an idiot. "Of course I know that."

"Then maybe you'd want to explain to me why did you use it? You know that your kind isn't allowed to resort to Unforgivables."

Arielle laughed scornfully. "I know that we aren't allowed to risk the _precious_ lives of normal wizards to defend our own lives, even if these same wizards are Death Eaters," she said. "Whoever gave you that information about me, has done his job well. Only, he missed the most important detail. I was not defending my own useless werewolf life; I was protecting the life of a real wizard." She shrugged. "Of course, I know that this fact makes no difference for you. Do you want to take me to Azkaban now or you'd rather come back later?"

Sirius bit back his grin at the girl's insolence. Dawlish, however, kept his unflinching calm. "I take it that the wizard you defended was Mr Cane Black?" he said.

"Yes," Arielle confirmed, "he was hit by seven Stunners and unable to fight further. The Death Eater would have killed him – he was already pronouncing the incantation, but I was faster."

"Why didn't you use a Stunning Spell or something else?"

Arielle frowned. She seemed to be contemplating the matter. "I don't know," she finally said. "I was scared and I didn't think. I just did the first thing to cross my mind."

"I understand," Dawlish said in a flat voice. "I see you've been scared for young Mr Black's life, Miss Lupin, but your kind isn't allowed to use Unforgivables under any circumstances. I must report to the Ministry that you made a confession."

"She's engaged to Cane."

All three of them looked at the door. Anath Lupin was standing there, her face flushed with embarrassment to interrupt an interrogation, but determined.

The Auror looked at her. "And you are – ?"

"Anath," she said, "Anath Lupin. My sister and Cane are engaged to get married."

Sirius briefly wondered why Cane had not told him this. One look at Arielle's shocked face gave him the answer: because it was not true. It was just a lie that Anath had made to defend her sister.

"Is that so, Mr Black?"

"Yes, it is," Sirius said without the briefest hesitation. "My son told me how much he loved her and how he wanted to spend his life with her." Well, that was not a lie – Cane _had_ told him that.

"Miss Lupin?"

Arielle only nodded.

"Well, I must give my report to the Ministry. I won't miss the last detail," Dawlish said, and took his leave.

Sirius grinned at Anath, admiring her inventiveness. It was obvious that the Ministry had no great desire to deal with a werewolf from such an influential family, so they would probably grasp the excuse provided by Anath and leave the matter to rest.

Arielle, however, did not share Sirius' mirth. In fact, her face showed pure anger and she made a threatening step forward. Anath quickly ran out of the room – she knew that her sister would not do anything to her outside, where everyone in the hospital could see them.

"How are you?" Sirius asked softly, and Arielle sighed tiredly.

"Fine. Well, no, not fine. I won't be fine until I know that everything is all right with Cane."

He nodded and followed her outside.

One look at Remus' face told him that there was no change in Cane's condition. Anath was talking animatedly to her grandfather, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Arielle draw a hand across her throat and the meaning was more than clear. Anath's grin only grew wider.

Sirius went to the coach and asked in a quiet voice what was so wonderful.

"The kid's just solved their problem," Mr Lupin answered, smiling.

"What problem?"

"By saying that Cane and Arielle were engaged, she made it sure that they will get married," Mr Lupin explained. "No one likes the others to make a fool of him and the Ministry likes it least of all. If Arielle does not marry Cane, she will have some serious problems and she knows that."

"She wants to marry him," Anath said, "I know that she does. Well –" she shrugged, " – now she will _have to_ do it."

Sirius grinned too. The kid was really smart. He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that was saying 'no'. Yes, Cane loved Arielle, but Sirius was not sure that he himself wanted Cane to marry her. The problem with the lack of children was a very serious one. Now, Cane thought that he didn't care about that, but what would happen if one day he decided that he cared, after all? The months before and after Cane' birth were very clear with the change of Sirius' own feelings – how he had not wanted children at first, but the actual birth of his child had changed that. Sirius remembered the feeling of helplessness and deep disappointment, when each month it had been proven again and again that Angela was not pregnant. Looking at the past now, he saw that it was one of the reasons he had felt so attached to Harry – somehow, he had taken the place of the second child that Angela was unable to give him. Which had not been fair, of course, and his behavior had confirmed her insecurities about him. Well, it did not matter now but it was a fact that Cane did not know what he talked about when he said he did not mind not having children – Sirius himself had not known at the time. _As if anything of_ _this matters right now_, he thought bitterly. _Cane is between life and death right now_. _If something goes wrong, I wouldn't have to worry about his future with Arielle or without her_.

**A day later…**

Cane wanted to open his eyes but his eyelids felt like glued with the most powerful glue known to wizardkind.

Where was he? He had no idea, but he did not care anyway. He wanted to sleep but he couldn't. How strange – he could nether sleep, nor open his eyes.

Gradually, he realized that there were voices around him. A male voice, clear and rich, that he had never heard before. It was talking about healing spells and Stunner that had hit his lungs.

Then, another voice. This one was female – nice, melodious and somehow familiar, but he could not name the person that it belonged to.

"He won't die, right, Healer Johnson?" the woman asked.

"We are doing anything we can to save his life," the Healer said in a concerned voice. "Seven Stunners are a very serious thing. His respiratory organs are badly damaged and his vocal cords are affected, too. For now, he can't breathe for himself. I don't want to lie to you, his condition is critical."

"But he has chances to pull through, right?" the woman kept insisting.

The Healer's response did not come immediately. "Fortunately, Mr Black has a very strong constitution. Besides, he has the best care. We observe his condition twenty-four hours a day."

Cane made the greatest effort and finally opened his eyes. He blinked at the sudden light, and then looked around.

An unknown man was standing next to his bed. The Healer, most probably.

Then, Cane saw the people on the other side of the bed. They were standing close to each other, in a semi-circle, and he felt their eyes looking at him nervously and expectantly. His father. His grandmothers. Arielle. Fleur. Charles. Sirius. Harry Potter. His grandfathers. His uncles. Aunt Sylvie.

Cane closed his eyes. He was so tired, as if he'd run a marathon.

Suddenly, he remembered everything: the wedding, the locket, Selena, Morgaine disappearing, the battle and the red lights flying straight at him. _So, that's what happened_, he thought. _How long have I been here? Am I going to die?_ He had no desire to die. He wanted to live.

He tried to open his eyes again, but it was too much an effort for him. _I want Remus. He can save me. He's always saved me in the past. Once, a long time ago, he told me that I had nine lives, like cats did. How many of them had I consumed already? _

He did not want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to fight. He wanted to convince Arielle that they had future together. He tried to talk, but the words did not want to come out of his mouth. _Remus. Remus, where are you? Help me._

And he felt the deepest darkness on earth consuming him.

**Four days later…**

"Healer Emerson!" Sirius exclaimed. "Is that you?"

The old man smiled at him. "Sirius Black. I knew it was you from the moment I saw you. It's strange, to meet after all those years."

"It really is."

"I suppose you're here to see your son?" the Healer asked.

"Are you the one taking care of him? How is he?"

"Let's go to my study, Mr Black."

"I'll wait for you here, Sirius," Harry said immediately, and Sirius nodded.

In the Healer's study, Sirius took a seat and looked at Emerson. "How is he?" he asked. "Remus – Remus Lupin, I mean, told him that he was allowed to see him yesterday, but what are the prognoses?"

Emerson ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Mr Black, just like I told you years ago, we don't know. He's stabilized now, but it's not a sure thing. Each day in which he is still alive is a battle. The Stunners had damaged his respiratory organs very badly and there is infection going up in his throat. Honestly, I am amazed that he is still alive – by all medical laws he should have been dead the moment the fifth Stunned hit him."

Sirius nodded slowly. That sounded very much like Raymond's words from the day before. "And what can you do?"

The Healer gave him a long look. "Keep him here until the worst come and prаy that we'll be able to fix it."

"But don't you know what to do when it happens?"

Emerson smiled bitterly. "I wish we did," he said. "The problem is, we don't know what's going to happen to your son. We can only wait and try to keep him stable."

Sirius nodded for a second time. "Can I see him now?"

This time, in contrast to all their meetings all those years ago, the Healer smiled. "Of course. Just don't let him grow tired and speak too much."

"I won't," Sirius promised.

It was very easy to keep his word, because when he entered the room, Cane was sleeping. He looked very pale and exhausted, but peaceful, and Sirius relaxed. _Everything will be fine_, he thought.

"He looks okay," Harry whispered.

"I know."

"I'm glad," Harry said sincerely. No matter how cruel and egoistical Cane was, no matter how he had occupied all of Sirius' care and attention the last year, Harry definitely did not want him dead.

"He's going to live," Sirius said with sudden confidence, leaning over the bed to cover Cane with the sheet that he had kicked off because of the heat. He tugged the sheet from under Cane's feet and smiled when his son turned aside and muttered something without waking up.

"My God!" Harry whispered, and Sirius looked at him, surprised. Looking like he was going to throw up, Harry pointed with his eyes at the bed. Sirius looked there and felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach. Cane's bare back was a tapestry of blue, green, yellow and even lilac stripes, as if left by a lash. The sight was disgusting and Sirius felt like he was going to retch. He bolted out of the room, desperately trying to suppress the revulsion in his stomach. Harry followed close and they looked at each other with horror.

"Come," Sirius said after a while, "go and have a coffee. You look like you need it."

"What was that?" Harry asked. "It looked like lash marks."

"It was just that," Sirius corrected him in a dark voice.

"Bur how – ? Lupin would have never – "

"Of course he wouldn't have," Sirius snapped angrily. "But someone did and I will find out who he was!" he finished fiercely.

"Are you going to ask Cane about that?" Harry asked.

"No, I am not! If he hid it so carefully all this time, he won't tell me anything about that. No, I intend to ask a few questions to some other people."

"Lupin, you mean?"

"Oh, definitely! But right now, I want to talk to Healer Emerson."

Harry hesitated. His godfather looked like he would gladly kill someone on the spot. "Sirius, you aren't going to do something stupid, are you?"

Sirius laughed nervously. "Of course not. Come on, Harry, go and have a coffee. I'm coming back in a few minutes."

Emerson was still in his study when Sirius burst in. "Mr Black," he said. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can. The marks," Sirius came straight to the point. "Where are they from?"

The Healer's bright eyes darkened. "So, you've seen them," he said. "Cane was asleep, then?" Sirius nodded. "I thought so. When he's awake, he hides them without thinking, it's like a second nature to him, but when he sleeps, they sometimes appear, I noticed that during the last four days."

"Do you know when did he get them?"

"Oh, ages ago. Mr Lupin brought him to me for examination days after taking him from the orphanage and Cane had them already." He shook his head. "The boy was five or six, for Merlin's sake, not older. What kind of person could do this to a child is beyond me."

Sirius felt like he was going to faint. "You mean – you want to say that it was not an accident?"

Emerson snorted. "An accident? You saw what the marks looked like and you thought it was an _accident_? No, Mr Black, it was just a bully from the older children under the protection of the people running the orphanage." He snorted again. "No, I'd rather say that the adults there felt that brutalizing the son of _the_ Sirius Black – a murderer and a Death Eater – was something noble, that they gave him exactly what he deserved. Pity, but that's the way many people are."

Sirius nodded, trying to keep his anger. "And the marks cannot be removed?"

"They can easily be removed. Cane just wants to keep them. He keeps saying that he can always hide them, so he doesn't need to have them removed. They are a part of him, he says. The orphanage happened and removing the scars won't remove the past, that's what he claims. And – they don't hurt, be calm."

_Each time I think I know him at least a bit, something happens and I see that I know nothing about him_, Sirius thought.

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**A week later…**

All those days spent in solitude had developed his senses. He could say who was passing by his door just by the sound of his footsteps and the slightest change in the rat's breathing told him how badly exactly Pettigrew's last encounter with his Lord has passed. So he heard the footsteps from twenty yards away and his whole being turned into terrified waiting: how was she? Was she even still alive? Had she finally broken down and told them what they needed?

The door cracked open. Pettigrew entered the cell, Morgaine's body lying limply in his arms. Her silver hair was trailing on the floor and there were deep burns all over her legs, yet she did not even flinch, when Pettigrew tripped and her head hit the wall. For a long, awful moment Arion thought that she was dead. Then, Pettigrew left her on the plank bed and started tending to her burns, wrapping her limbs in cold wet sheets. That was part of the torture – they would Heal Morgaine's wounds just before they force her into the fire next time. She would hurt like hell when she woke up, but at least, she was still alive.

"I'll do that," Arion said and leaned over his cousin, careful not to lose his balance – the torture and malnutrition had made his movements slower and uncoordinated.

"My Lord told me to take care of her," Pettigrew said.

"I'll take care of her, vermin! Shoo!" Arion said disdainfully, and Peter shot him a look full of hatred. He had tried to help him, sometimes gave him extra food and advised him not to irritate the Dark Lord, but had he received any gratitude? No, of course not. The boy was as ungrateful as anyone could be – ungrateful and arrogant like his father! Unfortunately, he could not do anything about him, because the Dark Lord had said that no one could touch the young Lupin, except on his own command. So, Peter really left.

"The air became cleaner," Arion muttered and tried to tend for Morgaine's wounds. Despite hating himself for that, he could not help but feel a little relieved, because the burns indicated that Morgaine had not fallen in trance and so, she had not told the Death Eaters what they wanted to know. Well, at least it was clear why they needed Morgaine, but why did they need Arion? He had no special gifts. Maybe they wanted to use him for blackmailing his family into helping them, Arion thought, and then he saw Morgaine moving and moaning slightly.

"It's alright, Morgaine," he said quickly, "it's all over. You're with me now. It's all over."

Her eyes opened, dim and unfocused, but she recognized him and tried to smile. "It hurts, Arion," she whispered.

"I know, Morgaine, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I didn't tell them anything."

"I know you didn't."

"But they're going to make me do it again and again!" she said brokenly. Her voice was still rasp from the long desuetude, but at least it was there. Arion still could not believe that the shock of the attack that she had told him about had helped her regain her voice.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Arion was trying to relieve the pain of the burns and Morgaine was wondering when they would make her enter the fire again. And again. And again.

"I'm afraid of death, Arion," she finally whispered.

Arion felt like crying. He knew that he should tell her '_Do not be afraid, you are not going to_ _die_,' but he could not say it, because he knew she was probably right. "Everyone is, Morgaine."

They fell silent again.

"Arion?" she said in her rasp, brittle voice.

"Yes?"

"When the war ends, we're going to walk around Re de magie every day, from morning till night. There won't be any precautions –" Her voice faded when she moved her right leg and the shooting pain came anew.

Arion nodded. "There will be many happy and sad people… The wounds will heal over… We'll forget about the war. We'll live our lives and be happy–"

His final words were interrupted by the sudden opening of the door. "What do you want, rat?" he sneered. "Can't you leave us alone?"

Peter sneered back. "I'm afraid I can't," he said. "Come with me. Oh, and tell the girl good-bye, because you won't see her ever again."

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17


	20. Under the Full Moon

**Disclaimer: If I were J. K. Rowling, I would have ****been writing books instead of fanfiction**

_Thank you for your reviews, both old and new ones!_

Chapter 20

**Eight days later…**

"Thank God, you're finally here!" Linda exclaimed and sent him her most shining smile.

"Did you really think that I would have left you here in Suffolk when you have to be at your study at seven?"

She smiled again. "No. Bye!" she called out to her classmates. "Michael came to take me home."

"Bye, Linda!"

She followed him on the porch and then down the gravel path of the old house where Katherine – one of her oldest friends – lived with her family. _Kate is so happy_, she thought without envy, but she remembered the time when she had also had a house, a husband and a family.

Out in the street, they stopped in front of Linda's blue car. "I don't know what the problem is," she said, "when I tried to start the engine, it just failed."

"Fine, I'll call the service-station tomorrow and they'll send someone to take care of it."

"Good."

They got into Michael's car and headed for the town where they lived. It was a journey of more than sixty miles and they were silent for the most of it. Then, they started talking about the hospital they both worked at, and Linda told him how nice she had spent her time with her oldest friends.

"I should feel offended, you know," Michael joked. "I am your friend too, and I wasn't invited."

She laughed. "Would you like to be invited next time?"

He shuddered. "A bunch of women and I? No way!"

"I knew it. For God's sake, Michael, watch the road!"

He turned the steering wheel just in time to prevent them from crashing into the nearest tree. "Remind me again, why do we have to go through the forest?" Linda asked.

"Because we still have forty miles left and we both have to be at the hospital at seven."

Linda glanced around nervously. She did not like the thought of going through a forest after dark one bit. Who knew what might live there?... Even though she was in the car and was not alone, she felt nervous. "Calm down," Michael said, "it'll be okay."

"I hope so," she muttered.

He hesitated. "Have you heard of her?" he finally asked.

She did not need to ask who he meant: there was only one 'her' in their conversations: Christine, his future ex-wife. They were on such bad terms that they could not talk to each other without quarreling, but Linda was still friends with both of them.

"She's all right. As well as she can be expected."

She waited to see whether he would continue the exchange. He didn't.

Bats flitted through the trees and, somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted loudly. Linda shuddered in her light yellow dress, and Michael only smiled. He loved forests; she had known that for years. _Maybe he has lived near a forest, who knows_, she thought. _Not him and not me, that's for__certain. _After all those years, she still remembered the young man, covered in blood, who had been rushed at the hospital the night she had a shift. She was still a trainee then, and he was the first seriously injured patient that she had been trusted with. That was one of the reasons she had felt so attached to him. Oh, she had been ecstatic, when, after weeks of sleeping, he had awoken. Unfortunately, he had forgotten everything – not only his past life, but everything, literally. She smiled, when she remembered how he had been unable to use the toaster or the telephone.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Linda said and turned her head to the right to hide her smile. After a minute or so, she was just turning her now-composed face back, when a sudden shining between the trees caught her gaze. "Wait!" she said.

"What?"

"Nothing," she answered, feeling stupid, because it was probably just the moon, but then she saw the distant silver shining again. It wasn't the moon. "Look there!" she cried. He did so.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, and stopped the engine. The shining thing turned out to be hair – human hair. Actually, it was a girl's hair – the hair of a girl who was struggling helplessly while a man was carrying her further and further into the forest. For a few moments, Michael and Linda looked at them, thunderstruck, and it was only when the pair had disappeared from their sight when they came to themselves.

"Are we going just to stay here and let him molest her?" Linda whispered angrily.

Michael started the engine and they followed the way where man and the girl had disappeared. Fortunately, it was easy to see where they were going – the rising moon provided enough light.

"Here they are!" Linda exclaimed with relief. "Oh, God, he's going to–"

Michael nodded angrily. He had never liked people like this man. By the way the girl was lying on the grass of the glade and the hungry way the man was looking at her, licking his lips, it was obvious what his intentions were.

Or maybe it was not so obvious.

Just when Michael had opened the door to rash out of the car and give the bastard what he deserved, a strange change began taking place. First, the man's body started to shake so forcefully that Michael thought that he was having a fit of epilepsy. He froze on his place. A moment later, he heard Linda gasping next to him when the man's head started _elongating_. Then, the same happened to his body. Linda screamed. The man's shoulders hunched and grey fur started sprouting all over his body.

"Let's get out of here!" Linda yelled in a frantic voice. "Michael, start the engine up. _Start the_ _bloody engine up_!"

He heard her, but he could not move from his place, hypnotized by the change. He knew he should be afraid – hell, he was afraid, but he was not as shocked as Linda was. In fact, he realized that he was not shocked at all. He had seen this happening before. He could not say where, but he had definitely seen something like that.

The disgusting change went on right in front of him, and the disfiguring of the backbone, the arms turning into paws, the human face being replaced by an animalistic snout, each little detail made something deep in Michael's mind move. He'd been in a forest just like this one, listening to the same cries of unbearable pain that turned into howls… and then, he was suddenly stepping cautiously on the floor of a long tunnel, and, at the other end, he saw – he saw the same change but it was not the man in front of him changing. It was a boy, and he knew him, and could not look aside while the other's body turned into – turned into a wolf's one?

"Merlin," he heard Sirius gasping behind him, "we were right. He _is_ a werewolf."

And then a sudden light exploded, wrapping his mind in white radiance. He could still hear Linda yelling something at him, probably asking whether he was alright, but he paid no attention to him while the pieces of his life were fitting together in his mind. Everything was so clear now. "Merlin!" he gasped and in a minute or so, he finally gathered his thoughts together and looked at Linda. "I'm okay," he told her.

She sighed with relief and started fumbling through her handbag for her mobile phone. "I'll call the police," she said. "God, he – this thing – it changed into a wolf. That's not normal!"

Now, he looked at the man and the girl – he had completely forgotten about them, and his heart sank when he saw the wolf biting furiously at her shoulder. _He's going to kill her,_ he thought frantically, and pulled Linda's mobile out of her hand. "No police," he said in a firm voice. "They can't help us. Besides, when they come, the werewolf would have probably killed her."

"A – a werewolf?" Linda said breathlessly.

"Yes, that's what it is." He was already making plans with the speed of desperation. "Now, listen to me carefully. Go to the driver's seat and start the engine. Whatever happens, _do not go out of this car_. If the wolf comes near you, drive off as fast as you can. Be ready to set off the moment I come back. Do you understand me?"

"No! What are you going to do?"

"I'll go and get her," he said. "Be ready."

"No! Michael, don't!"

Without listening to her next words, he rushed out of the car and towards the wolf that was already biting the silver-haired girl on her face. He focused on his Animagus form and for a long, awful moment, felt a pang of doubt – all those years without even knowing that he was _able_ to change might have affected his ability. But then, he heard that the echo of his own steps had turned into a sound of hooves and he felt the familiar weight of antlers at the top of his head. Behind him, Linda gave a horrified shriek. Everything was okay, he realized with great relief, and then the werewolf raised his head from the girl that was covered with blood by now, and looked at him.

Everything was so _not_ okay.

The wolf growled menacingly. The stag cocked its head and came nearer. It took the wolf's neck between his jaws and pulled its head backward, aside from the already unconscious girl. To the stag's surprise, the wolf rolled its head under an unnatural angle and bit him back. The stag tried to drag his enemy aside from the girl and the wolf followed him, as if he was not interested in its prey anymore after it had once been bitten. Or rather, he wanted to deal with his new enemy first. _But – but he knows what he's doing_, the Animagus realized, shocked. That was impossible. A werewolf never kept his mind when transformed. Never. Yet, the werewolf in front of him did. Normally, he would have struggled with the newcomer to get the human and not chasing him before returning back to his prey. Instead, he threw all his might, fighting the stag with fangs and claws, using foul tricks that were very human, wounding the other a few times, before the stag managed to hit him straight in the chest with his hoof, almost ripping him apart. A soft crack, and the human reappeared. _I've lost training_, he thought, before stepping over the sprawled wolf and leaning over the girl, who was all covered in blood. _Is she still alive_, he wondered but lost no time to check. Instead, he grabbed her and sprinted to the car; seeing his coming, Linda opened the door and he threw the girl on the back seat and jumped in himself. "Set off!" he cried. "Lind, set off!"

She obeyed immediately. "We have to take her to the hospital," she said.

"No," he replied, checking the girl's pulse. "They wouldn't know how to deal with a werewolf bite. Drive to London. We have to take her to St. Mungo's."

"Where?"

"The magical hospital."

"What?" she yelled and almost lost control of the car.

"I know, I know, I'll tell you everything. For Merlin's sake, Lind, watch the road." In a poor attempt of humor, he added, "I wouldn't like to have a car accident right now, when I finally know who I am."

"You do?"

He nodded, though she could not see his gesture from the driver seat, and started cleaning the blood from the girl's face. "My name is James Potter," he said, "nice to meet you."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**Three hours later…**

"Merlin!" he said, not believing his own eyes. "The Leaky Cauldron is _closed_." He looked again, just to make sure that he was seeing right. Yes, the pub that he had seen so many times – _the only entrance to Diagon-Alley,_ – was now closed. James frowned. Whatever had happened, it could not have been a good thing. And of course, it had to happen right now, when they were carrying a victim of a werewolf attack that might die any minute. Is the war still going on? After sixteen years? He shuddered at that thought_. What happened to Lily and Harry? He was there! Voldemort was there – and Wormtail betrayed us, no doubt about that. How can they still be alive_?

The door of the pub remained stubbornly closed. _I'll never know what happened to them, if I don't find a way to walk through that door. And she – she's going to die if we don't bring her to St. Mungo's in a very short time_. He placed the still unconscious girl on the ground started banging his fists on the door.

"Michael – James!" Linda hissed behind him, looking at him hitting something that looked like a solid wall to her. Paying no attention to her, he continued with his attempts to attract attention – which he did, but it was the wrong sort of attention. The Muggles started peeking through their windows and looking at the madman who was hitting the wall, and the woman who held a bleeding girl in her arms.

"Stop it!"

He gave her no reply but he did not stop. After a minute or two, the door finally cracked and opened just a bit. "What's going on?" a sleepy voice came from inside.

"Tom! Is that you?" James asked, relieved.

"Who are _you_?" the voice asked.

"James Potter."

There was a brief pause following those words, and then, "James Potter is dead. He's been dead for sixteen years."

James moved his head and the moonlight illuminated his face. He was now sure who he was talking to. "I am not dead, Tom. Look, I can explain everything."

"Yes, like where you got this Polyjuice Potion from." And the door started swinging shut.

"Wait!" James cried. "There is a wounded girl with me, a victim of a werewolf attack. She should be rushed to St. Mungo's immediately."

After a minute, the door opened and Tom went out into the street, looking around cautiously, with his wand in hand. When he saw the girl that was lying on the ground with Linda kneeling beside her, his face paled and he immediately Levitated her inside the pub, making sure with a quick look that no one was looking. "Come in," he said shortly.

Linda gasped. Now, when she saw the man carrying the girl through the wall, she realized that it was not a wall but a real door of a real pub. "Come on," James said, taking her by the hand.

Even after she had heard all of Michael's – or rather, James' – explanation about the wizarding world that existed parallel to her own, she was terrified to see the barman kneeling in front of the fireplace with _green_ flames and talking to a face _in_ the fire. James gave her hand a squeeze. "It's okay," he whispered, "it's just a Firecall."

The old man stood up. "I contacted St. Mungo's," he explained. "They'll be here any minute. Now, don't be offended or something, but I have to – "

_Sssst_! With a hiss, two fine ropes came out of his wand and wrapped themselves around James and Linda. She screamed but James remained composed. "It's just a precaution, Lind," he said calmly. "Tom, it's really very uncomfortable this way. Do you think you could put us to sit down?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I'm sorry." He Levitated them to the nearest couch. "Is it better this way?"

Before they could answer, the flames in the fireplace shone again and three people wearing the St. Mungo's uniform, came out of the fireplace. Linda did not scream this time – she was getting used to the idea of the wizarding world pretty fast. One thing she knew for sure – that she did not like the glances that the men exchanged when they saw the girl. Without losing a second, they Levitated her on a stretcher and then they _disappeared_ with the stretcher.

"Look, Tom," James said conversionally, "do you intend to keep us like this forever?"

The toothless old man sat opposite to them to keep an eye on them and shook his head. "Nah, I've already contacted Professor McGonagall. She'll be here any minute."

"McGonagall?" James asked, thunderstruck. "Why her? Why not Dumbledore?"

Tom stared at him. "Don't you know? Dumbledore is dead."

"What?" James yelled, horrified. "Dumbledore is what?"

"You really don't know? He was killed in June."

"He was _killed_?"

"Michael – James, stop shouting!"

_Linda and her manners_. He looked at her perfect coiffure and make-up. Even after the three-hour mad driving, she looked flawless. The blood on her hands from holding the girl looked awfully mismatched. "He was killed?"

Tom was squirming on his seat, unwilling to reply, but not daring to leave them out of his sight. Fortunately, his predicament was soon solved by the arrival of Professor McGonagall – the current Headmistress of Hogwarts, James supposed. She was very pale, with her lips thinner than ever and a decided look in her eyes. The first thing she did after entering the pub was to point her wand at him and remove the ropes. "Thank you, Professor," he muttered automatically while she was untying Linda. "Professor, I'm telling the truth. It's true, I don't know exactly what happened, the last thing I remember is Voldemort and his red snake eyes, and the light of his wand, I did not recognize the curse, but I – "

She raised her hand to stop his explanations. He realized with great surprise that he actually did shut up. A_ reflex from my schooldays, no doubt about that_. "You will have to do all this explaining to the Ministry," she said in a low, but firm voice. "But there is only one way to convince me. I want to see a demonstration of your Animagus abilities."

He looked at her nervously. "How do you – "

"Sirius and Remus had a hard time explaining it to me," she said shortly. 'I'm waiting."

He stood up, went to the middle of the room to make sure that he had enough space, and turned into the magnificent stag. Even under such circumstances, he felt the physical pleasure of the change, the excitement that accompanied every single transformation. _How could I have forgotten about this_, he wondered and lowered his great antlers respectfully in front of McGonagall.

His old teacher sighed in a trembling voice and inspected him closely, stroked his fur, raised her hand to touch one of his great antlers. "Good job, Mr Potter," she said in a very business-like, if trembling voice. "Fifty points to Gryffindor – and a month's detention for disobeying the rules."

He changed back and grinned at her, happy that he had finally convinced her. He had not expected the fierce hug that greeted him, and the eyes that were shining too brightly. "Welcome back, James," she whispered.

He smiled, trying to hide his own emotions. "Professor," he asked in a while, "what about Lily and Harry?"

She looked aside, but answered all the same, "Lily – I'm sorry, James, but Lily is dead. After – after he hexed you, he tried to make her move and leave Harry alone but she refused and so, he killed her. The _Avada Kedavra_."

He nodded wordlessly. It was just what he had expected, but actually hearing the words made it all so real. _How can she be dead?_ "And what about Harry, Professor?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"He's fine," McGonagall said quickly, happy that she could give him some positive news. "When Voldemort tried to kill him, Lily's sacrifice made the curse backfire and he – he just disappeared. After that, Harry was proclaimed the savior of our world. The Boy Who Lived, that's what they call him. He's one of my students now, he just finished his sixth year."

"He is a Gryffindor, right?" he asked, taking a seat. She did the same and smiled faintly.

"How could he be something else?"

"Yes, being my son and being raised by Sirius, I suppose that you're right."

McGonagall averted his gaze, looking very uncomfortable. "What's wrong?" James asked sharply.

"He does not live with Sirius," she said reluctantly. "He lives with Lily's sister."

For a moment, he just stared at her, speechless. Finally, his voice came back to him. "What? But why? This woman hated Lily, she hates our world and everything that has something to do with us."

"Yes," McGonagall said softly, "I know."

"I'll kill Sirius," James said fiercely. "Hell, he was supposed to take care of Harry, but he just sent him to the Muggles – I bet that Angela's jealousy had something to do with it. This obsessive, manipulative bitch, I'll hex her into – "

McGonagall did not understand what Angela had to do with anything right now, but she did not lose time to find out. "Sirius has nothing to do with it, James. He could not take care even of his own children, let alone Harry."

James looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, feeling sure that he would not like the answer one bit.

"You see, since you told no one about the change of the Secret Keeper, everybody thought that the traitor was Sirius. He was sent to Azkaban."

"What?" James yelled, horrified. "_Are you crazy_?"

She shook her head.

"But how? The trial would have shown that he was innocent!"

"There was no trial."

James' eyes widened. "Oh no! What happened?"

"Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban before escaping."

"He _escaped_? No one escapes Azkaban!"

"It used to be this way, but unfortunately, it isn't now. Sirius was the first one, followed by the Lestranges, Dolohov and – "

"Wait! Merlin, there are so many things that I don't know about. You mean that the Death Eaters are roaming free now?"

"Basically, yes."

"But you said that Voldemort was gone!"

"Yes, but he's back."

James only groaned. "Well, that explains the werewolf… I know that he had werewolves on his side the last time… " His voice faded, when he remembered that he had suspected that Remus was one of those werewolves. _It was unfair, so unfair. I'm sorry, Moony_.

"What?" McGonagall asked sharply. "You've witnessed a werewolf's attack?"

James nodded.

"You should have started with this!" McGonagall exclaimed. "What happened?"

James explained quickly, and McGonagall contacted the Ministry to tell them to search for the hopefully still unconscious werewolf in the place described by James. "To make themselves useful for once," she added for James when she finished her Firecall, and he found himself chuckling in response.

"There is at least one thing that hasn't changed, I see," he commented.

Her lips twitched slightly. "I believe I have yet to meet your companion, James," she said, looking at Linda.

"Ah, yes. That is Linda Carter. She was the doctor who took care of me after – well, after. Linda, I'd like you to meet Professor McGonagall, Minerva McGonagall."

The two women nodded at each other, and McGonagall said, "I don't have much time, James. Come with me, I'll take you to Sirius."

He stood up immediately. "Come on, Linda."

"I take it that you have no wand?" McGonagall asked.

"Not yet."

"Fine, I'll Apparate both of you to the Headquarters of the Order."

"So, there still is an Order?" he said. "Good."

She took their hands and Apparated all three of them. James was pleased to notice that despite her obvious fear, Linda did not make a sound. She was a quick learner, really she was.

"Read this and try to memorize it," McGonagall said, handing him a piece of paper. James read it and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, there is a _Fidelius_ in play?"

She nodded. "I am the Secret Keeper since Dumbledore – since he died."

James looked at her sympathetically – he knew that the Headmaster's death must have affected her deeply. Then, the address that was written on the paper attracted his attention. "Isn't that - ?"

"It is indeed, James."

He grinned and handed the piece to Linda. _Finally, I'll see what Sirius' home looks like_. Beside him, Linda gasped when the house appeared in front of her.

"Go on," McGonagall said, "I have to go. Just step carefully, because there are some people that we don't want to wake up. The rooms are on the second floor."

"Bye, Professor."

"Bye, Professor," Linda repeated after him and shook her head when McGonagall Disapparated. "I'll never get used to your way of traveling."

"Come on, let's go inside," James said. His next words were, "Merlin, I can see why Sirius never invited us over."

"I feel like I'm acting in a horror movie," Linda whispered. "What's that?"

James looked. "The heads of the family's old house elves," he said. "I think."

On the second floor of the black house – what a coincidence that it belonged to the Black family – they hesitated, unsure where to go. James shrugged and just knocked at the nearest door. "Come in," came the instant reply, so they did, and found themselves into a sea of red – red walls, red curtains, red furniture, red rug near the couch where the only non-red things in the room were sitting. _Did I say non-red_, James thought. _I was mistaken_. The hair of the girl in front of him was dark-red and reminded him painfully of Lily. A dark-haired boy with _sunglasses_ had his wand pointed at them.

"Oh, Julian, stop it!" the girl said impatiently. "They are not enemies; otherwise Professor McGonagall would not have let them in."

_A smart girl._ James smiled. "My name is James Potter and this is Linda Carter. Professor McGonagall really did let us in."

The boy snorted, without removing his wand from its aim – James' chest. "No, Julian, it might be true," the girl said. "He really looks just like Harry."

"Does he?" Julian asked.

"Do I?" James asked at the same time, interested. "Where is he?"

"At his Aunt's place, of course," the girl answered with surprise in her voice. "Didn't you know?"

James' jaw tightened. He was sure that the Muggles were making Harry's life as miserable as possible right now.

"I am Anath Lupin and this is Julian Black," the girl said, and James looked at the boy with interest. _That must be Sirius' son_, he thought, _the baby that Angela expected back then_. _He looks like her and not like Sirius at all_.

"And this is my sister Arielle," Anath continued. James looked around but did not see anyone else. Then, the red rug in front of the coach moved and James could not believe his eyes. It was not a rug at all. It was…

This time, Linda did shriek – really loud. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, calm down," Anath said, irritated. "It's not like she's going to bite you or anything."

The she-wolf nodded and her red fur reflected the light of the candles when she raised her front right paw. James blinked, but knelt next to her and shook the offered paw. _Maybe she is an Animagus wolf_, he thought, but then, he noticed her pointed ears and the too-long muzzle. No, she was not an Animagus; she was a real werewolf – a werewolf who kept her mind intact. "Is there a cure or something?" he asked.

"A potion," Julian said. "It allows her to keep her human mind while she is changed. Now, it's not that I don't appreciate your company or anything, but if you are who you say you are, you'd want to see my dad and Sirius, not us. The door at the far end of the corridor."

James nodded. "Thank you. Lind, are you coming?"

"I'm sure that you, my uncle and Sirius have a lot to say to each other," Anath said quickly. "We'll be glad if Linda keeps us company."

"Lind?" he asked, and she managed a smile.

"Go, James, I'll be fine."

When he was already in the doorway, he heard her asking tentatively, "May I pet you?" and the low whine that came in response. Smiling, he advanced to the last door, following Julian's instructions. The last obstacle. The last barrier standing between him and his friends. He raised his hand to knock at it, but then he felt suddenly scared. Sixteen years was a long time. All three of them had changed. He did not know the people at the other side of the door anymore. They had lived all that time without each other. What would happen if the bond between them that he had always considered unbreakable was now ruined?

_Well, I'll have to do it __some day._ He raised his hand and knocked at the door.

"Shoo!" came the reply from the inside, and James grinned in spite of himself. That could mean only two things – that Remus had also kept his human mind, otherwise Sirius would have been in his dog form and therefore, incapable of human speech and that Sirius had not changed one bit. He took a deep breath and pushed the door opened, only to find a wand that was pointed at his chest. _Like father, like son_, he thought.

"Sirius Black, the most hospitable host ever," he said. "I see you haven't changed at all."

With a shocked expression, Sirius lowered his wand. "What the hell are you?"

James chuckled at this. "_What_ am I? Really, Padfoot, you should work on your English. You could ask _who_ I am."

Sirius did not even blink. "I know who you are, thank you very much," he snapped. "I just don't know what the hell you are doing here. I am not even drunk, so I want to know what the hell is wrong with my imagination, to pretend to talk to a dead man. You are not a ghost, you are too compact to be an Inferius and you are not a figment of my drunken imagination, _so what are you?_"

James shrugged. "Try with a real man."

Sirius shook his head. "Pinch me. Ouch, not this hard!"

James grinned. "Well, you asked me for that, Padfoot." Then, he left him to gather his thoughts together and turned to the other person in the room who was standing on his four legs, watching him with disbelieving yellow eyes. "Hello, Moony."

He approached the wolf and raised his hand to stroke his fur. The wolf's tail started wagging back and forth, almost like a dog's, and James smiled. It was a behavior that he had expected of Padfoot, not Moony. He felt a sudden wave of happiness rushing through him at the thought how infinitely better the things were now for Remus – he kept his human mind during the transformations and that meant no blood, no tearing himself or the others apart, no losing control over his own actions. His grin became wider and wider, and suddenly he tackled the wolf and rolled it onto the floor. "Hello, Moony," he whispered in his long, pointed ear, and then he felt a hot tongue licking at his hands. Still, the wolf's eyes were cautious and unsure. James understood, stood up and went to the middle of the room, where he transformed and turned to look at the other two. Sirius' eyes were widening and disbelieving but the wolf overcome his surprise more quickly and leaped at the stag in ecstatic welcome. Prongs rubbed noses with Moony, smelled him and lowered his head, so their eyes were at the same level. Then, he felt something nudge him in the back, and he knew what it was. He turned and nudged noses with the big black dog, and then changed to his real form. He felt ecstatic, so happy, so like he _belonged_. _How could I ever forget_? He grinned. "Persuaded, guys?"

Sirius too changed back into himself. "What happened? I saw you, James! I swear, you looked like dead, you wasn't breathing and – "

"Come on," James said, sitting on the floor next to Sirius and drawing the wolf close, placing the big grey head in his lap. "Yes, that's more like it. I can't explain it exactly myself. The last thing I remember is my duel with Voldemort. Then, I woke up in a Muggle hospital on 19th November, not knowing even who I was, and now you said you've seen my body – I don't understand. I was told that I had survived some sort of explosion, that I've been rushed into the hospital when a witness saw the ruined house – by the way, is it really ruined?"

Sirius nodded. His head still in James' lap, Moony took a breath through his nose, and the two men looked at him. "You've figured it out, right, Remus?" James asked, and shook his head. "It feels so strange talking to you like this, with you understanding each word I'm saying. I mean, it's great but it's – unusual."

The wolf made another sound, as if he were laughing, and licked James' fingers. Sirius _did_ laugh. "Yes, I can understand how you feel," he said, "it felt strange to me, too. Now, Moony, what did you figure out?' He sighed. "But you can't answer me, right? Sorry, Prongs, you'll have to wait by tomorrow to know the details about your own resurrection."

James laughed, and began talking. He told them about his long stay at the hospital, about Linda, about how difficult it was for a pureblooded wizard – even one who had forgotten about that – to survive in the Muggle world. They laughed with him when he told them how hard it had been for him to learn to run the shower. How he had made mistakes with the Muggle money. He laughed heartily – Merlin, what a mess he had been after he had left the hospital, how inadequately he had acted, he had almost burned Linda's flat when trying to make coffee and he had actually burned his _hand_. He told them about his work as a therapist, throwing them into a new fit of laughter. He could tell exactly what they were thinking – that James Potter had always been better in sending people at the hospital, not helping them get out of there.

"And when I saw this werewolf transforming, it was like a curtain had been lifted in my mind and I remembered everything – the Forbidden Forest, we discovering your secret, Remus, everything." He smiled. "It's strange to think about it now, it was all due to the full moon. For years, I used to spend the full moon alone on the roof of my block of flats. I stood there and I knew that there was something about the full moon that was important, something that kept dragging me outside, that made me want to run and play. I knew there was someone there, someone who needed me. Who I needed. And the moon never let me forget it, not really. I felt the connection, guys, to you. That connection was deeper than I could have ever even imagined." He smiled. "Lind thought I was mad when I couldn't even describe what kept me so drawn up to the moon. I was talking about boys who I saw during the full moon but I could never make your faces out. And yet, even then, I knew that it was you, that you were somewhere. It seems so incredible to me that only yesterday I could not make anything out. Now, it's so clear, so – " He laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get sappy on you, it's just – " Then, his smile faded. "Is he still alive?" he asked, and Sirius and Moony understood who he meant.

"Yes," Sirius said. "He's with Voldemort now."

"He's always been with Voldemort," James said bitterly. "Only, we didn't know about that when it mattered." He looked at the wolf. "I'm sorry, Moony," he said simply, and the wolf whined quietly to tell him that it was okay.

The moon started setting and the transformation began. James had thought that the potion made it less excruciating, but he was wrong, it was just as awful as painful as he remembered it. He told that to Sirius, after they had placed Remus on his bed, and Sirius only nodded in response.

"Merlin, he looks awful," James muttered. "Older and thinner than he should be."

"He has a lot of problems," Sirius said, and James noticed that Sirius did not look much better than Remus.

"When was the last time you slept? I mean, eight hours sleep?"

Sirius shrugged. "Can't tell you."

"I thought so. Go to your room and sleep. I'll take care of Moony here."

Sirius hesitated. "I'd rather stay here," he said and changed an armchair into a sofa. "It's good to have you back, Prongs," he said, before dropping off to sleep.

"It's good to be back," James whispered and moved a chair, so he could sit comfortably, seeing both his friends at the same time.

A light knock at the door startled him. He whispered a 'Come in," and Julian Black appeared in the doorway. He still wore his stupid sunglasses, even so early in the morning, and a stick in his hand. "Is everything okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," James answered, surprised: surely the boy could see that everything was normal?

"This potion is a real blessing," Julian continued. "Before, Dad never had a full moon without a scar."

_His dad?_ James frowned, when he realized that the boy meant Remus. Something was very wrong here. "Come in," he said, stepping aside from the bed.

Julian came in – and collided with James' chair, falling down. His head hit the wooden floor with a thud. Sirius and Remus woke up, startled by the crash. "Are you okay, Julian?" Sirius asked, jumping from his sofa.

"Julian?" Remus asked.

"I'm fine, Dad. Sorry, just being clumsy." But there was blood trickling from his mouth and his movements were restricted.

"And up all night, no doubt," Remus said. "Sirius, take him to his room."

Sirius scooped Julian in his arms and started carrying him outside. "I can walk by my own," the boy protested.

"I know you can, but it's faster this way, so keep quiet."

Now, James understood and felt a fool for not realizing it sooner. He looked at Remus' tired face and asked, "Since when – ?"

"He was born this way," Remus answered, and James started looking at the photographs on the bookcase to hide his embarrassment. What he found there made him even more startled.

"I'll go to see what Sirius is doing," he said and quickly left the room, meeting Sirius in the corridor. He dragged him aside of the door. "Listen," he hissed, "who is the girl?"

Sirius blinked. "The girl?"

"The girl from the pictures! The one with silver hair."

"Morgaine," Sirius said. "Remus' daughter. Why are you asking me this?"

"Because she is the girl that I saw last night – the girl who was attacked by the werewolf."

Sirius looked horrified. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Sirius, she was – she was hurt badly. He bit her not one time, but many. She might be – "

"No," Sirius said firmly, "she can't be. Let's contact St Mungo's, but not from this floor, I don't want for Moony to hear us. Let's use the kitchen."

But before Sirius could throw the powder in, the flames rose to life. The two friends looked at them with surprise, but the reason for their sudden springing become clear in a few seconds, when Raymond Lupin stepped out of the fire and looked at them.

"James Potter!" he said. "Is that you?"

James grinned at him. "In my own person."

Sirius interrupted him, "Raymond, Morgaine – "

"I know," Raymond sighed and when he moved, Sirius and James noticed how old and grey, and pale his face looked. "I saw her. She is in pretty bad condition but I think she's going to live. Still, there will be permanent consequences."

"Permanent consequences?" Sirius was horrified, and James looked at him with surprise. The girl would be a werewolf from now on; what consequences could be more permanent than _this_?

"I'm not sure about the details, it's too early" Raymond said. "Look, I need to have a little rest. I haven't slept in almost forty-eight hours and I'll soon be a danger to my patients if I keep going on like this. I'll check on Arielle and Remus and I'll go to bed. I want you to go to St. Mungo's at noon and stay with Cane."

Sirius' face lost its entire colour. "What happened?" he asked. "Is he okay?"

"No," Raymond answered honestly, "he isn't. Vivienne is with him now, because I don't want for him to be left alone, and when you take her place, be ready to call the Healers any moment. I feel that the crisis may happen during the next few days and the Healers are too busy to watch over him constantly."

Sirius nodded. "Cane?" James asked. "Your Cane? He is at St. Mungo's?"

Sirius paid no attention to him. "What's going on, Raymond?"

"It's hard to tell," the Healer answered thoughtfully. "His general condition keeps improving very fast, but some sort of infection is still going up in his throat. And his lungs – I have the feeling that they keep withering in his chest day after day. He can't breathe properly, this night I had to put him on spells to do the breathing instead of him."

"Merlin!" James whispered. "What happened?"

Again, no one heard him.

"And I think he's losing control of his morphing. He keeps changing noses, cheekbones and colours just like he did when he was a child, and he can't stop it. Sirius, it's not looking good."

"No," Sirius agreed, "it isn't."

When Raymond left, James looked at Sirius silently. "Seven Stunners in the chest," Sirius said shortly, and James sighed. No wonder they looked so worried.

"Come on, Sirius, try to sleep for a few hours and then we're going to go and see your son. After all, it might be a while until I can see mine."

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21


	21. Reactions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I think I'm going to cry…**

_Thanks for your reviews; I really appreciate them. _

Chapter 21

Kreacher's muttering had reached a fever level; Sirius could hear it from the corridor. The reason was in the kitchen – a woman who had her back turned to the door so all Sirius could see was her back and her long blond hair. She was obviously looking for something but could not find it.

"Hello?" Sirius said, startling her. She turned to him with widened eyes, but seeing it was only him, she smiled. "I was afraid that it was the – the – "

It was clear for Sirius that she had forgotten the exact word. "The house-elf," he supplied. "Kreacher."

"Yes. Him. I've got the feeling that he doesn't like me very much."

"That's because he _doesn't_ like you. Then again, he doesn't like anyone. Except for my mother's portrait, that's it."

She blinked and Sirius sighed. "I take it that you haven't met my dear old mum yet?"

"No."

"Don't worry, you will," he predicted. "I am Sirius Black, glad to meet you."

"I am Linda Carter, nice to meet you, too."

"I thought so," Sirius nodded, shaking her hand. "James told me about you and well, there aren't many blondes here, in this black house."

Her smile indicated that she had caught the pun. "No, there are more redheads, from what I saw," she agreed.

"What were you doing, by the way?" Sirius asked, and Linda looked embarrassed.

"I, err, well, I thought that maybe I could make myself a cup of coffee. I'm sorry for breaking into your kitchen like this, but Michael, or rather James, is still sleeping and I thought – " She blushed.

"It's okay," Sirius said immediately. "It's just I can't see how you can make yourself a cup of coffee when there is no electricity in this house."

Linda smiled. "I made that discovery for myself."

Sirius produced a cup of steaming coffee for her and another one for himself. Linda gasped and then shook her head when she saw his hidden mirth. "I suppose it's going to take a while before I get used to the idea of doing things with a stick."

"A wand," Sirius corrected her. "Take a seat and have a drink with me before I wake James up. We have to go out."

Linda nodded. "He told me about your son. I'm sorry that he isn't well."

Sirius smiled thinly, trying to suppress his anger. What right did James have to go around and talk about Cane with strangers?

They sat at the table, drinking their coffee. "I suppose it must be very strange for you," Sirius said after a while.

"It is, indeed," she agreed. "I thought magic existed in children's tales only and now – " She shook her head. "Wizards, werewolves, and house-elves." Then, she smiled. "James told me that your friend was dealing with his condition better than the time he last saw him."

Sirius nodded. "James was here?" he asked. "I mean, you saw him today?"

The blonde took another sip of her coffee. "Yes, he took me outside to make a call to the hospital that we won't be there for a few days."

Sirius chuckled. "I still can't take it," he explained, because she was looking at him rather oddly. "I don't know what you know about him, but James Potter used to be great at helping people get hurt, not healing them."

She smiled. "So I've heard." For a moment, she looked pensive. "You know, I've never seen him like that." Sirius gave her a blank look. "After the full moon," Linda said. "He was never happy. He was always waiting for something, looking for something. For something or for someone." She paused. "Now I know it was you."

Sirius returned the smile. "It was us," he agreed.

"It was you what?" James asked, yawning, and entered the kitchen. "I see the two of you have already met. Are you drinking coffee? Can I have one, too?"

Sirius made him one and James drank it almost hot.

"I'll never know how you can drink coffee without burning your tongue, James," Sirius said.

"That makes two of us," Linda agreed.

James waved away their mocking. "I am ready to go," he announced after a minute. "Are we taking Julian with us?"

Sirius blinked. "No, why would you think we are taking him with us?"

James looked confused. "I thought that you had already made an appointment in St. Mungo's."

The dark-haired man shook his head. "An appointment? What appointment?"

James and Linda looked at each other, looking very uneasy. "You mean you don't know?" James asked slowly.

"What is there to know?" Sirius looked angry now. "Can you speak more clearly, please?"

Linda looked at the door, wanting very much to take her leave as soon as possible. James frowned, because he was very much unwilling to give the news to the clearly unsuspecting – how could he not suspect? – Sirius. Finally, he said slowly, "The boy is ill, Sirius."

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "He is not."

Again, James and Linda looked at each other but decided to leave the matter to rest. "Are you coming?" James asked.

"I'll Apparate you alongside," Sirius said shortly and in a minute, Linda was left alone with the sulking Kreacher who had received explicit orders to obey her and not do anything that might cause her any trouble.

"I miss my wand," James sighed, when they landed in front of the hospital. "I'll have to go to Ollivander's as soon as possible."

Sirius spared him the news that Ollivander had disappeared. "Come on," he said.

The St. Mungo's staff had become accustomed to Sirius' visits, so no one paid any attention to them as Sirius led James to the room where a blond woman was sitting next to the bed, reading a book.

Sirius' breath came out of his lungs like a hiss and James looked thrilled at the green boy in the bed. He did not have a greenish tinge to his face. No, every part of him was green, _literally_. His green hair was spread across the pillow, his green arm was encircling his head and his green eyelids were covering his eyes which should be green, too, James was sure of that.

Sirius looked terrified. Now, James realized that the color that had fascinated him so was nothing more than a symptom of bad state. Cane's green lips were slightly apart and the breathing coming out of them was heavy and laboured, his chest barely moving.

"Where is she?" James whispered angrily, looking around, but the only people present were Cane, the blond woman and a blond man, younger, who had not noticed their arrival yet.

"Who?"

"The boy's _mother_," James said sarcastically. "I can understand that she left Harry to his fate, but I never thought she was one not to give a damn about her own son."

Sirius grabbed James' hand and squeezed it so hard that he almost smashed his friend's fingers. "You're going too far," he whispered hoarsely. "Too damn far, ?James!"

James might not know what was going on, but he knew when Sirius was – well, serious. He did not repeat his words.

They entered the room and Sirius looked at the blond woman. Vivienne Montresorre, the Veela. "Hello," he whispered.

"Hello," she said and looked up. "He's just fallen asleep. Be aware of… why are you bringing a stranger here? The fewer people come in, the better…"

"He is with me," Sirius said quickly. "This is my friend, James Potter, he…"

His next words caught up in his throat, when her eyes widened. Her book fell from her lap and her fingers elongated into claws. Her back arched.

The blond man moved quickly around behind her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. Sirius and James saw his knuckles flex and whiten as he began to squeeze. His face got illuminated by the sunlight. It was Michel Montresorre. Sirius and James knew the great duelist from the photos and newspapers of their youth. What was going on now, though, they had no idea.

Vivienne turned to her son, her eyes raised in a mix of supplication and fury. He shook his head and whispered something to her in their language. She nodded reluctantly but he did not release her immediately. He just loosened his grip. Then they looked directly at James, their eyes moving in such unison as of they had rehearsed it, their expressions so much alike the one might have been copied from the other. They radiated undisguised hatred that James did not know the reason for. Then they turned to Sirius and their faces cleared, as if nothing unusual had taken place.

"How is Cane?" Sirius asked.

"Not fine," Vivienne sighed. "He could barely sleep last night and his color – he's losing control of his morphing, Sirius, and that's bad. I've seen him like that only once – when Elise died."

Sirius bit his lip. "I see. Vivienne, Morgaine – ?"

The woman's face faded a little more. "You know that they found her?" she asked.

"It was James who found her," Sirius said.

"Really?" Vivienne sounded as if she would have rather have her granddaughter dead than saved by James.

James nodded. "How is she?"

"Bad," she said. She was looking only at Sirius, pretending that James did not exist. "Julia is there now. Things are going from bad to worse, I think. I think her life is out of danger, but there are some severe wounds." Her eyes were dull. "Well, at least we know that she probably won't become a werewolf."

"She won't?" Sirius asked, stunned.

"A human becomes a werewolf after receiving the bite, but that's not the case for my granddaughter because technically, Morgaine is not a human. Her mother was half-Veela and I am a full-bloodied one. I don't think a person who is not entirely human can become a werewolf and neither do the Healers." She sighed. "He's saved her life, Sirius. If you hadn't been there, she would have probably bled to death."

James looked very uncomfortable with her attitude. He's have to ask Sirius about that, but later.

"Go to Cane now, Sirius," she was saying. "Raymond said that he shouldn't be left alone. I'll check on Morgaine. How long can you stay?"

"The whole day," Sirius answered immediately.

"Thank you," Vivienne said, and James gave his friend a startled look. _Why does she thank Sirius for staying with his own son? It's like she is thanking a friend for looking after her grandson. Something here isn't right._

Cane was still lying in his bed when Vivienne and her son left, but his eyes were now open – his orange eyes on his orange face with a long nose and thin lips.

"Hello," Sirius said, intent on finding a bright side to the whole situation. "Who are you and what did you do to Cane Black?"

Cane looked at him. "Morgaine?" he said and Sirius startled and silently asked himself for how long Cane had been awake. How much had he heard?

"How is she, Sirius?"

Sirius had not wanted Cane to know the truth about Morgaine, when he was still so ill himself, but now, he had no other option instead of telling him the truth. "I don't know."

"Then go there," Cane said, "and see what is going on." Silence. "Please?"

Sirius looked at the pleading orange eyes. He couldn't say 'no'. "All right."

Cane and James were left alone. James was wondering what to say. Cane saved him the trouble. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving her. We – _I_ am enormously in your debt."

_But why? What do I keep missing?_ "What is that?" James asked, looking in the strange object on Cane's bedside.

Cane smiled, his nose shortened and widened and his eyes shone in purple. James looked fascinated at the change. "It's an Extendable Ear," Cane explained.

"What kind of ear?"

"Extendable. It is something like a – microphone? Is that what Muggles call it?"

James nodded and smiled at the thought of a magic microphone, then looked at the now yellow Cane with short black hair and square jaw, and shook his head. "And to think that this joke of yours cost me a broken jaw."

Cane blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Once, Sirius and Angela dropped you off at our place. They were busy for the day and we agreed to babysit you. How old were you – I think you must have been older than three. Not much older, though. We had a great day – until your father came to pick you up. When I answered the door and the two of us came back, we saw that you were playing happily with Snuffles and that you were all violet. And then Sirius decided that I had caused some sort of accident to turn you that way, and he didn't believe me when I told him that I had no idea what might have happened. Everything ended with a broken jaw. My broken jaw."

Cane laughed and James saw that laughter caused him pain, making it hard to breathe. _He is very ill. _He looked at Cane's bloated knuckles and tried to see his ankles under the covering. _No, not that. He can't have arthritis. He is too young._ Yet, that was James' job and he knew what arthritis joints looked like. _But how did it happen? Some untreated angina as a child or what?_

"Oh, Merlin, he didn't?" Cane wheezed, oblivious to James' thoughts.

"He did," James confirmed. "Merlin, Sirius could be a real pain in the ass when he wanted to."

"Excuse me?" Sirius demanded from the doorway.

"It was nothing important, old friend," James said without batting an eyelid.

"So?" Cane asked, and Sirius sighed.

"I couldn't learn anything," he admitted, and James gave him a quick glance. "No one is allowed in her room. No one can say anything but that she would probably live."

Cane's face turned from yellow to dejected grey. "I see. How was the full moon?"

Sirius shrugged. "Normal, I'd say. Remus and Arielle are both sleeping."

Cane shot him an irritated look. "Did you really have to talk about Arielle in front of James?" he asked angrily.

"It's alright, Cane. He's already seen her."

"Yeah, I took her for a red rug until she offered her paw for a handshake," James added.

Cane smiled with something like pride in his eyes. "She's a very well-mannered lady," he said softly. "Even when she is a wolf."

Sirius could not help but note, "Yes, especially when she proclaimed both you and Arion cretins for making fun of her hat."

Cane blinked. "What?"

"The videotape," Sirius explained. Cane still looked confused. "From when you were kids. When Sylvie bought her gong."

"Ah," Cane grinned and tried to stifle the feeling of suffocation in his chest. "Merlin, we were awful. Sometimes I think that Remus should have received the Order of Merlin, First Class for putting up with me all this time. No, there should be a new class specifically for_ that_ feat. Extraordinary Class, maybe," he mused aloud.

_Remus? Why should Remus put up with him? What the hell is going on here? Sirius was in Azkaban, I know that, but where has Angela been all this time?_ James remembered Sirius' violent reaction when he had insulted Angela, and something close to the truth crossed his mind.

Cane yawned and his eyes closed. He turned blue almost immediately and by the smile on his lips, the older men could say that he was already having a nice dream. "Nice blue dreams, Cane," James whispered, knowing from his experience in the Muggle world that sleep was a great healer.

"Nice Arielle dreams," Sirius added, and smiled. _Oh, so that was it_, James thought.

"I'll go back to the Headquarters," he said. "Are you coming with me?"

Sirius shook his head. "I'll stay here. I don't want to leave him alone."

James nodded in understanding and looked at the door. Sirius followed him in the corridor, taking the Extendable Ear with him, just in case that Cane was trying to trick them into revealing things that he was better off not hearing.

"Well? How is she actually?" James demanded as soon as they left Cane's room.

Sirius' face fell. "I couldn't enter her room, but I saw her from the doorway," he said slowly. "There are two Healers in there with her. It was awful, Prongs."

James bit his lip. "I thought that might be the case," he said. "The wolf bit her quite severely."

Sirius nodded and forced himself to continue, because he needed to tell someone what he had seen and how terrible it had been. "She was always so beautiful. She isn't any more. " He shuddered. "She's lying there, on the bed, unconscious, and they are trying to close the bleeding veins in her left arm. Her head has been entirely shaved so they could examine the wounds on her scalp better. And her face – " He found that he could not go on.

James' face had paled slightly. "I thought something like that might happen," he said. "Are we going to tell Remus?"

"No!" Sirius almost shouted. "Don't you dare tell him _anything_, do you hear me, James? Don't you dare! He is bad enough as it is, the full moon has already taken it out of him. We're going to tell him in a day or two."

"Keep your voice down!" James hissed. "People are already looking at us. I never said that I would tell him. It was just a question."

"Right, sorry." Sirius looked really contrite. "We haven't seen each other in ages, I thought you were _dead_, and all I'm doing is shouting at you. It's just that I'm really nervous. Sorry."

"It's okay. Do you have Floo Powder? I need a new wand as soon as possible."

Sirius said that he had and in less than two minutes, James was traveling back to the Headquarters – and the answers to some questions that he wanted to ask Remus Lupin.

He found two people in the kitchen – Linda, who gasped and shuddered when he came out of the fireplace, and the girl from the night before – he could not remember her name. "How is Cane?" she asked immediately, worry on her face. By this question, James came to conclusion that Raymond had not told her about Morgaine being found, so the only thing he said was that Cane was okay, though he secretly knew that it was not true. He hurried out of the kitchen and into Remus' room.

He knew that he had interrupted something the moment he came in. There were only two people in there and by the look of them, he could say that they had been arguing moments ago. Remus' face was pale and determined, Julian had reddened, his hands clenched into fists.

"Er – hello?" James said.

"Hello, James," Julian answered, and James felt a brief astonishment that the boy had recognized him after hearing his voice only once. "How is my brother?"

"Okay," James said, and Julian's unseeing eyes screwed up.

"You are not a good liar, James."

"No, really, everything is okay with him."

"Really?" The question was asked in an icy voice.

"Well, no," James sighed, noticing that now the two of them – Julian and Remus – looked worried. "But at least he hasn't got worse."

Julian relaxed. "That's more like it. I'll leave you, then," he said. "And, Dad? This is not the end."

"Yes, it is," Remus said in a firm voice. "I've made my decision; you're going. Tomorrow."

"No, I'm not."

Remus sighed and propped against his pillow. "Really, Julian, we have an audience and I'd rather not discuss it now."

The boy nodded sullenly and left, still making use of his stick and muttering angrily, "I'm not going!"

James waited until the door was closed, and then asked, "An audience, Remus? Since when have I been 'an audience'?"

Remus smiled faintly. "Come here," he said softly. "Here, on the bed."

James sat next to him and Remus squeezed his hand. "I thought you were a dream," he said in a low voice. "When I woke up this morning and there was no one in here, I thought I'd imagined you."

James immediately regretted his leaving before Moony had woken up. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No, it's fine," Remus assured him. "I had more than enough people tell me that you are real – Julian, Anath – "

"But how is it possible, Moony? He was there; I dueled with him, and no matter what I told McGonagall, now I'm sure that he hit me with the Killing Curse. How is it that I am still alive?"

"Well," Remus began thoughtfully, "I have a theory that might explain it. I think that Voldemort wanted, in fact, to spend all his power on Harry – to kill him using the full extent of his might. You know that the Unforgivables take effect only if you _really_ want to kill the person in front of you, and I don't think that he wanted to kill you _at that moment_. I suppose he just wanted you out of the way, so he hit you with no strong intention of killing you. I'm sure that he intended to come back to you after killing Harry, but then, he himself was defeated and disappeared. Hagrid and Sirius must have come minutes later and thought you were dead – a well-calculated _Avada Kedavra_ can have this effect for a short time, you know that."

He stopped talking and James supported his head while he was drinking the orange juice from the glass that was on the bedside table. "But then how did I end up in a Muggle hospital without any memories?"

Remus relaxed again against his pillow. "Well, the memory part is easy – it was because of the curse. I suppose that after the wards of the house had been broken, it became visible for Muggles. I think you were rushed to the hospital because someone called them by phone. Then, the ruins of the house were burned by the accumulation of the resonance of Voldemort spell – I know that for sure, so no one knew that you weren't actually there."

James swallowed hard. "Lily's body was burned?" he asked, trying to suppress his feelings.

"I'm sorry, James," Remus whispered.

After a while, James took control of his emotions and asked, "Where is Angela?"

Remus frowned, confused. "You're asking me about _Angela_? One would think that you'd want to know all about Harry."

"I do," James assured him. "But if I start asking about him now, I'll never stop, and there are some other things that I'd like to know, because I feel like I might drop a brick any minute. So, where is she?"

"She's dead."

James nodded. "I thought so. When did it happen?"

"A month after the attack."

"Did she die in childbirth?"

"You could say that. Yes, she died the day Julian was born."

"And who's been taking care of the boys ever since?"

Remus gave him a meaningful look. "Can't you guess?"

_Well, that certainly explains many things._ "What's wrong with Julian, anyway?" he asked. "Other than the obvious, I mean."

Remus' face became unreadable. "Nothing is wrong with him."

"Yes, sure," James said, not believing a single word. "I've been working with ill people for years, Remus. I know one when I see one."

"Well, you've seen wrong," Remus said calmly. "He's all right, I assure you."

James decided not to press the matter. "It's good to see you again, Moony," he said.

"Same here, Prongs," Remus smiled. "Same here."

Suddenly, there were footsteps coming up the stairs, and Julian and Anath burst into the room, looking horrified. "Dad!" Julian cried, his anger completely forgotten, "Dad, there was attack an hour ago! At Andre's house!"

Remus tried to stand up, but James did not let him. "Calm down," he said in firm voice. "Andre, your friend?"

"Yes, Dad just got the news from St. Lazarre's. Andre and his parents had been rushed there after – Dad, they said that Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the attackers."

"Bellatrix?" James asked. "Sirius' cousin?"

"The strangest thing," Anath spoke for a first time, "is that the house was not ruined, not at all. But it was turned upside down, like the Death Eaters have been looking for something. Oh, Merlin, what could Andre's family have that interests the Death Eaters? Did they find it?"

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18


	22. New Circumstances

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, J. K. Rowling does._

**Thanks to all my old reviewers and also thanks to the new ones!**

Chapter 22

_**The next day…**_

Whatever Remus had had in mind for the next day – what Julian had refused to do so firmly – did not happen. Early in the morning, while Raymond was finally telling Remus the truth about his daughter's condition, Hestia Jones and Kingsley Shacklebolt Apparated into the kitchen where the others were having breakfast, discussing their plan to move Harry in a few days. The Healer and the Auror were carrying two limp bodies in their arms; with the feeling of revulsion Sirius recognized the delicate face that had lost its entire color, the curly dark hair, and the high cheekbones.

"An – " James began, but then fell silent. The facial features were almost the same but not exactly. James shook his head, completely sure of his conclusion. "That's not Angela."

"Of course this is not her," Kingsley said. "This is her sister, Eleanor. At least, this was Eleanor," he added in a soft voice. "She died last night."

James threw a quick glance at Sirius and saw his friend's pale face. Although the dead woman was not Sirius' wife, she still looked pretty much like her, and James knew that Sirius was seeing Angela, imagining how she must have looked in death. Then he saw the man who was being placed on the magically created couch to be examined. Dark hair, strong face, and James suddenly knew who he was, even before Arielle Lupin's scream. _What the hell is going on?_

As soon as Raymond leaned over his son, Arielle turned to Kingsley and demanded to know what was going on. "Why did you bring them here?" she asked.

"We have a reason to believe that some of the healers in St. Mungo's are on Voldemort's side," the Auror answered shortly and thoroughly, "that they've been using the patients to experiment with them, to see how they would react to certain medicines."

Arielle's jaw dropped and she became white with horror, realizing the real implication of his words. "You think they've been experimenting on my brother?" she asked breathlessly.

"I have reason to believe that Eleanor's death was not a coincidence," Hestia broke in. "I saw her only yesterday and her condition was unchanged, and now she suddenly has a heart attack and dies. It doesn't fit."

The silence that followed indicated that everyone had realized what she meant. Raymond finished examining his son and looked at them with visible relief, shaking his head. "I didn't detect any uncommon medicines or spells," he said. "Yet, I would not return him to St. Mungo's. I won't take the risk."

"Of course you are going to leave John here!" Julian exclaimed. "He can leave him here," he said, turning to face the others. "He can."

"Of course he can," Sirius said immediately, and Raymond nodded shortly in gratitude, not looking at him. Instead, he was looking at his son and Sirius felt that right now, for Raymond, the whole world had reduced to the dark head in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

It was not until now that Sirius realized just how much Raymond had changed during the last year, after Pamela's death and Arion's disappearance. Oh, he was as handsome as ever, his appearance was not the problem. Sirius still remembered how Raymond had been at Hogwarts – the girls had been crazy about him. Even James' cousin, Sirius remembered, had been. He had briefly wondered what had happened between the two of them during the Christmas holidays because when Emma Potter had returned to Hogwarts, she refused to even talk to Raymond. Remus' brother was one of those men who looked even better with age – he still had all his hair and it was as black and shining as ever, his eyes were still the deep shade of blue that he had inherited from his mother, he was every bit as lean and muscled as he had been in his twenties, and yet Sirius realized that it was more than that with Raymond. Although he disliked Raymond almost as much as Snivellus, he reluctantly admired the man who had achieved his success all on his own. He had always thought that the bloody grudge holder was unbreakable.

Yet, he was standing in front of him, looking as vulnerable as Remus had looked after his worst full moons. Oh, it was a different sort of vulnerability, but it was there. The sharper line of the jaw, the exhaustion that was written all over Raymond's face, the violet shades under his eyes – he looked more aggressive and yet, somehow fragile. _It's the war_, Sirius thought, _I can't feel sympathy for Raymond Lupin, it's all due to the war._

Hestia, who had been examining Eleanor's body, raised her head. Her eyes were huge and filled with terror. "I felt something," she said in a harsh voice, and everyone looked at her. Raymond left his son's side and joined Hestia, who whispered something to him. Raymond pointed his wand at the dead woman and started muttering complex incantations so fast that no one could hear a word.

"Well?" Hestia asked.

"No." Raymond shook his head, "I can't define what it is, but there is something here, you're right."

"Something?" Kingsley asked. "Be more precise, please. Is it a part of her treatment?"

"No. I know all their medicines by heart. It's something I've never come across in all my years as a Healer. And I don't think it's been prescribed by a Healer, otherwise it would have been written in her patient's file."

"Are you sure that there's nothing new written there?" Kingsley asked Hestia, and the woman shook her head.

"No, I've checked. Why would they give her something and not write it in her file?"

The answer was obvious.

"Cane!" Arielle exclaimed suddenly. "He's there, in the hospital – and – and Morgaine! We have to take them out of there immediately!"

Her father did not seem so disturbed. "They are safe, Arielle. Of course we will take them immediately, but for now, they are safe. Your grandparents are with them and I don't think that the bastards who did this would dare to do something in front of witnesses who could remember about the later. Besides, you know how your grandmother and grandfather are. They won't leave Cane and Morgaine alone even for a moment, and they certainly won't let anyone give them something suspicious. But," he added darkly, "I'll go there right now and bring them here."

He stood up. "Come on," he said, his eyes searching again for his son's immobile body, "let's take them out of here. We'll leave them in my room until – later."

_Until they prepared Eleanor's body for the funeral__;__ that was what he meant, and __we__ all kn__o__w __that__._ Raymond looked away from John and at the dead young woman who looked so much like the one he remembered from his own youth. _But she's been dead for years_, he thought bitterly. _She's been nothing but a living corpse even before those so-called Healers experimented with her to death._ He remembered the day that Elle had been born – a tiny baby with plenty of dark hair and curious, wide-opened eyes. A great child. But her mother had not realized that – neither of her parents had. They had both remained in a coma and it had fallen on Raymond and Sylvie to raise their granddaughter. Neither John nor Eleanor ever saw the child. _And now, she never will see her for certain_, Raymond thought. He had not met Eleanor in person, but even without her striking resemblance to her sister Angela Black he would have felt deeply sorry for her – no one deserved to have his life ruined at age nineteen.

"The person who cursed her," he suddenly said, and his voice was hoarse, "the one who cast the Curse of Living Death on her – he killed a nineteen-year-old girl, as much as those Healers – " he almost spat the last word – "did. When I find out who they are, all of them are worse than dead."

He looked again at his son's face and for a moment, desperately wished for him to say something, to give them a sign that he was still alive. But John remained completely stationary.

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_**Three hours later…**_

Two stretchers were brought to Grimmauld Place that same day and Raymond started examining Morgaine and Cane almost immediately. Linda goggled for a moment when the stretcher holding Cane floated past her and shook her head, but did not say anything. Why should she be surprised when she had seen a talking portrait, a real house elf, and a stag that was actually her human friend? True, she still did not understand how a man could have a dark complexion, jet black hair and sharp features at one moment and orange skin, green hair and a piggy nose the next, but she was not surprised.

"Impressive, huh?' James asked from behind her.

"How does he do that?" Linda asked. "This is Sirius' son, right?"

"Yes, this is Cane. Cane, this is Linda Carter. He's a Metamorphmagus, Lind – he can change his appearance at will."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can he really? He likes changing his skin color and his nose?"

James smiled and shook his head. "You've got it, right? No, it's not that he likes changing his appearance like that. It's like that because of his state, he cannot control his changing right now. It's like sneezing, I guess."

She nodded. From the worried conversations earlier, she knew that the boy was really, really sick, that they couldn't find the treatment that would end the problem once and for all, that he could not breathe on his own. Still, the shape-shifter – she could not recall the word that James had used to describe his ability – looked okay to her. For a brief moment, Linda contemplated the thought of asking him to let her examine him before she left. She could hardly resist her professional curiosity. What did a wizard wound look like? She really wanted to know. _Maybe in a few days, when I get to know him better,_ she thought,_ I could ask him._After all, in only two weeks she would leave this world forever – her real life was in her own world, her friends and patients were there, as well as her children who adored her. She had to come back home before they returned from their holiday with their grandmother.

"Stop."

The unknown voice startled her out of her thoughts; a second later she realized that Cane Black had not spoken to her, but to the man who was making his stretcher move with his wand: Remus Lupin, Michael's – no, James' – other friend.

"Cane?"

"Stop, Remus. Leave me here."

"You need to rest."

"I can rest here in the living room. I want to talk to Sirius."

Remus frowned. "I'll talk to him," he promised, "you need your rest."

Cane shook his head and felt delighted when the movement did not make it harder for him to breathe, although it turned him violet. "Go to Morgaine," he said, "I'll explain everything to him."

"What is there to explain?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Go, Remus," Cane insisted, "I'll deal with it."

"But then you're going to let Raymond examine you," Remus said, helping him to stand up and sit on the sofa.

"Do I have to?" Cane asked.

"Yes," Remus answered firmly, and Cane sighed. Remus had more than enough on his plate as it was with Morgaine and Julian, and he certainly did not need Cane adding to it.

"Fine," he said, and Remus patted his cheek.

"Now, that's a good boy."

Out of a sudden impulse, Cane transformed, snuggled against the pillows and looked at Remus with big puppy dog eyes. Remus laughed and ruffled his fur. "That's a good boy, too," he said and the wolf yelped happily, swishing the tip of his tail. "You know what?" Remus asked, and the big black head shook. "You are no longer changing colors."

The wolf cocked his head at one side curiously and raised his paw in front of him to check. It remained black. Cane changed back, only to realize that as a human, he still had no control over his morphing. "Interesting," James muttered.

Remus left and Sirius looked at Cane. "What do you want to tell me?"

Cane hesitated, looking uncertainly at James and Linda. "We'll leave you alone," the woman said immediately, standing up, but Cane shook his head.

"There's no need for that. You can both hear what I have to tell Sirius – after all, everyone in this house is going to see what will happen next. But I have to ask both of you not to mention it to anybody. I mean, my family knows all about it, of course, but it will be – hard, if too many people hear about this."

_His family_, Sirius thought bitterly, trying to look calm. _And I'm not included in this group, of_ _course_.

"It's about Julian," Cane said, and noticed the quick exchange of glances between James and Linda. "What?"

"He's sick, isn't he?" James asked, and Cane silently nodded.

"Sick?" Sirius exclaimed. "He is blind, yes, but sick?"

Cane looked at James and Linda curiously. "You must be very good at your job, both of you," he said.

"We are," James answered simply.

"Tell me, what do you think? What is wrong with him?"

"Sick?" Sirius repeated.

"I think he has some defect in his bone structure," James said. "His bones seems too thin to me, somehow fragile. Like they would break any minute. He has some difficulties when he moves. And I don't like his color, but that is Linda's area of expertise."

Cane looked at the woman expectantly. "He's olive-skinned, but under this complexion, I think he's very, very pale. And his lips – they are cracked and grey-bluish. Is everything all right with his blood circulation?"

Cane looked deeply impressed. "Merlin, you are good," he said. "No, everything is not fine with his blood circulation. In fact, the problems are caused not by the circulation itself, but by the blood. His blood is too filthy."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed, not quite believing his ears. "How can you talk about your brother like that?"

Cane only sighed. "I'm saying it as it is, Sirius, and when I say filthy, I don't mean it metaphorically. I mean it just the way it sounds. Julian's blood is bad. It is filthy, literally. It was tainted even before he was born, and I think we both know why."

Sirius bowed his head. He suddenly remembered a day at Beauxbatons when Julian had tripped, falling on the ground. There had been blood on his knee, and Sirius remembered how he had thought that it was unusually dark, almost black. Padfoot had tried to lick the scratch in solidarity, and Julian had literally pushed him aside, yelling at him not to touch him. Now, it all made sense.

"There is a problem with his circulatory system," Cane stated. "There always has been. A few weeks after he was born, the examinations showed that the Cruciatus Curse had affected his blood vessels deeply and irreversibly. Taken alone, there is nothing wrong with his blood, but the blood vessels somehow make it dirty. Filthy. Infectious. Dangerous to his own body as well as to anyone who touches it without precautions. The only way is to keep his organs unharmed is to have his blood replaced regularly, so when it becomes too filthy for his body to handle, it is removed. It was first done when Julian was six weeks old. Ever since then, his health has been sustained by regular blood transfusions. The older he became, the more seldom he needed the transfusions, but he still needs them. The last one was two years ago, just before you met him, Sirius. There are three people in France who are ready to donate their blood for him – they've been doing this for years, because his blood type is very rare. The problem is, he needs enough blood to replace almost all of his own. And that means a lot of blood. The transfusions last for a few days. Normally, I am the one who donates most of the blood because I am young, we have the same blood type, and we share a blood connection. But right now, I am in no fit state for a transfusion."

Finally, Sirius raised his head. "You want me to do it," he said, "am I right?"

Cane nodded. "It has to be done now," he said, "and we can't ask those people in France to do this, it's too much. They do what they can – they've been doing this for years, but we can't demand of them to give half of their own blood to Julian, it's simply too much. Your blood type is the same as mine, so it's the same at his. We wouldn't have asked you to do this if I was well or if we thought it was dangerous. I've done it eight times, it's exhausting and may cause you a headache, but nothing else, if the Healers know their stuff."

"Stop it," Sirius interrupted him. "There is need to convince me. I'll do it."

Again, Cane nodded. "Thank you."

_Why do you thank me? __Did you think that I wouldn't agree? __It's my son we're talking about, Cane! _

"There is something more to this, Sirius."

"I'm listening."

"James was right when he said something was wrong with Julian's bone structure."

"You mean that there is something wrong with that, too?"

"His bones are too fragile. If they are not reinforced with spells on a regular basis, they will just – they will just crumble."

Sirius felt like he was going to be sick. Linda seemed to feel the same way because she pressed a palm to her mouth and her eyes widened in horror and amazement. James' expression remained composed and sad – he'd been expecting to hear just that from the moment Cane explained the situation with Julian's blood.

"What are those spells?" Sirius whispered. _Please, tell me that it is a lie, a cruel joke, or that you've suddenly gone insane, all my fault, please, let it not be true –_

"Painful," Cane answered matter-of-factly. "They are considered to cause pain that almost equals the pain of the Cruciatus Curse."

Sirius' eyes widened and Cane turned aside to hide his own eyes. "They must be performed repeatedly," he continued, without looking at the other three. "Many times, to make sure that all his bones have been corrected. And each time it feels like having the Cruciatus Curse used on you."

Linda wondered what the Cruciatus Curse was, but judging by the looks on their faces, she could grasp the basic idea by herself. The name itself was meaningful enough – it sounded like something excruciating. Sirius was remembering his conversation with Healer Emerson who had told him that the effects of the Unforgivable Curse on an unborn baby might be severe and long-lasting. James was trying to count how many bones there were in a human's body.

After a while, he said, "But Julian doesn't want this treatment, am I right? That's why he was arguing with Remus. I heard him, he was saying that he wouldn't go somewhere where Remus was sending him. He meant St. Mungo's, didn't he? He just doesn't want to be healed."

Cane turned to face him and there was a sad humor in his tired eyes that had now turned into a depressed grey. "Would _you_ want to receive such a treatment?" he asked.

James did not say anything.

"We've been fighting this war ever since Julian was nine," Cane said. "We can't blame him for wanting to avoid the pain, but we can't leave him without treatment, either. Thank Merlin that he doesn't need it as often as he once did. The last time he was treated was two years ago, and he hated it so much that he drove the St. Lazarre's staff so mad and they let him leave without waiting for him to make a full recovery." He smiled.

"I remember," Sirius muttered. _And they said it, they said it__;__ Remus and __Arielle did talk about St. Lazarre's__, but I didn't pay attention. __What kind of father am I?_

"How often does Julian need the procedure?" James asked.

"When he was little – a few times a year. When he grew older, the effect of the healing somehow – grew with him. As I said, the last time he was healed like that was two years ago."

"And how do you know when is the right time for the treatment?" Linda asked, and Cane shrugged.

"There are some symptoms," he said, "like the ones that the two of you noticed. And, of course, Julian is being examined regularly. No matter how much he hates the treatment, my brother is not stupid. Eventually, he will accept it. He always does. We are all very careful about his condition. Even the smallest mistake, the smallest negligence, and we can miss the time limit. If this happens, he will die, of course. The Cruciatus does not feel shy to herald its presence."

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_**Later th**__**at**__** evening…**_

"May I enter?"

"Be my guest," Cane smiled faintly, and Sirius came fully into the room."Take a seat."

Sirius pulled out a chair and sat next to the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Cane lied.

"You're lying."

Cane sighed and changed the topic. "Can't sleep either?"

Sirius shook his head. "Not when I know what's going on on the next floor."

"Uncle Raymond knows what he's doing," Cane assured him. "He's had a lot of practice with Julian, ever since his birth. But I know what you mean. It's awful to know that he's up there, suffering – suffering."

He coughed a little and Sirius brought a glass of water to his lips. "I know that this is for his own good, but it still feels awful," Cane said after a while.

There was a silence in the room. Both of them were trying to hear something from the upper floor, though they knew that the Silencing Spell that had been cast upon Julian's room was still effective.

"At least Morgaine is okay," Sirius said and regretted his words almost immediately. Yes, Morgaine's life was now out of danger, but her beauty was gone – gone forever. They had both seen her; while the one half of her face had been untouched by the werewolf, no amount of magic could ever restore the other. The girl would bear the scars for the rest of her life.

"Yes," Cane agreed and his voice sounded every bit as sad and disheartened as Sirius felt.

They felt silent again. It was not an uncomfortable silence, though, and that surprised Sirius, who had expected an angry outburst and accusations that he was the reason for Julian's condition. Instead, Cane looked simply delighted to have company, even though they had nothing pleasant to talk about to each other.

"I can't believe they've been carrying out experiments with patients," Cane finally said. "Do they know for how long this has been going on?"

"According to Kingsley and Hestia – for years," Sirius answered darkly, looking at his son's face. It was currently Cane's natural face and hadn't changed for the last few minutes.

"You may think I'm stupid, but the fact that Healers – Healers – can do such a thing is beyond me. They are supposed to help people and they've betrayed those who had trusted them with their lives. How is that possible?"

"I can't give you an answer, Cane. All I know is that there have been at least seventeen deaths that seem suspicious, knowing what we know now."

"Seventeen!" Cane gasped and almost immediately, struggled for breath. Sirius looked at him sadly and felt the slight smell that emanated from him – the smell of decay. _Raymond may have a point, saying that Cane's lungs are withering inside him,_ he thought and shivered.

"Why do you think they didn't try anything with John and Eleanor until now?" he asked when Cane started breathing again. "I'd say that they would have been the perfect choice – two living corpses. Not likely to tell anyone what had happened to them, right?"

"It's obvious," Cane shrugged. "They just didn't dare because of Uncle Raymond – he regularly examined them, he is a great Healer, and he has a lot of relations. Now, when everything is in chaos, they've become braver," he said bitterly and made a movement towards the glass of water. Sirius gave it to him. "Well, we are brave too and we're fighting," he said in a sudden burst of energy. "Why are you looking at me like that, Sirius?" he asked. "Did I say something funny?"

Sirius slowly shook his head. "I wonder what you thought about when you said it, that's all. Your voice sounded strange."

Cane seemed to think over something, but then he shrugged again and said, "It's just something that Remus told me long ago."

"How long?'

"Fifteen years."

Sirius quickly made the calculation. "I understand," he said after a while in a very soft voice. "What did he tell you then, Cane?"

"He told me that I would have probably got hurt again, but that I would never be powerless to fight against that anymore."

"Hardly a very encouraging thing to tell to a five-year old kid who had just been saved from a life like the one that you had led in the orphanage."

Cane looked at him sharply, and Sirius had the sudden impression that he wanted to ask him how he knew about that. Instead, Cane only smiled slightly. "Could he have promised me that I would have never got hurt again?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't have believed him. When he took me in, I already knew that the world was full with pain and compromises. He just gave me the chance to change my life and that was more than enough."

_It wasn't,_ Sirius wanted to shout. _You deserved better than__ just__ the chance to change your life. __You deserved a life with no orphanage and no scars in it, a life with two parents who loved you, who would have never let anything happen to you. __The perfect life. __And you had it! __We had it all and I let it slip. _

"Why are you like that, Cane?" he asked instead, and Cane frowned.

"Like what?" he asked, his dark eyes searching for Sirius'.

And then, suddenly, a memory came back to Sirius_. __A quiet evening, Cane playing with his toys on the floor, and he himself looking at Angela who was playing the piano and singing in a low voice. __His memory recollected ever detail so clearly that he almost gasped.__ He could feel the smell of the trees from the open window, the smell of a fresh-bathed child and muddy dog fur clinging in the air, and the smell of Angela's perfume of roses.__ He remembered the dreamy look in her deep dark eyes, the eyes inherited by Julian, and he heard her voice so clearly that for a moment, he could almost think that she was there, with them. "What are you thinking of when you look at me like that, Sirius?"_

"_Like what?" he heard himself answering._

"_You are looking at me as though you loved me." _

"Sirius! Sirius!"

He blinked and the memory disappeared. "You scared me!" Cane exclaimed. "Where were you?"

Sirius smiled. "Far away," he said. "Far, far away. Why are you so civil, Cane?" he elaborated his further question, and Cane almost laughed.

"You mean you prefer my angry outbursts and moody glances? If so, just tell me, I'm sure I can arrange something."

Sirius laughed too. "You know what I mean," he said after a minute, in a serious voice, and Cane nodded.

"I do."

"Then?"

"You are not going to like it."

"Tell me."

Cane hesitated, unsure of where to begin. "You know, all my life I've been asking myself about you," he finally said. "First, I wondered why you became a Death Eater. Later, when I knew you weren't one, I wondered what was wrong with us, why you placed the Potters before us." Sirius wanted to say something, and Cane shook his head. "No, let me finish. I know what you are going to tell me, that they needed you and so on; I've heard enough of that from both you and Remus who was trying to find an excuse for your behavior. No matter how noble the reasons are, actions are what you leave behind. You left us almost physically and entirely emotionally; I remember how that felt."

"I didn't – " Sirius tried to object.

"You told her that she didn't understand you, that we were causing you only troubles, that you didn't want us anymore," Cane went on in the same calm voice, and he himself wondered how composed he felt. How much things had changed. So there _was_ some truth in the statement that after coming face to face with death, people changed.

Sirius went pale. "You remember that?" he whispered, and Cane nodded.

"It was one of the things that I could never forget, never mind how much I tried," he said. "I don't think that I ever will. Oh, I know that you didn't mean it, that you said it only in the heat of the moment, but that doesn't change the fact that you said it, Sirius. It doesn't. In everyone's life, there are some words that can never be forgotten. And after I learned that you were innocent, sometimes I would lie in my bed and try to figure out what made the Potters more important than us, why we weren't good enough."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"After I learned the truth, I blamed you for everything that happened then even more than before," Cane continued. "For everything that had happened to our family, that was still happening to my brother. I thought that everything came to the fact that you cared more about the Potters than you did about us, or at least acted that way."

"And now?"

"Now?" Cane shrugged. "Now, I still think the same way, but I'm not blaming you anymore. People are the way they are, and I can't blame you for being you. And besides, after I was hit with all those Stunners, I realized that it didn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore. And it stopped mattering years ago."

"How so?"

"Because I have all I want. I have a real family. I have Remus, who had never once failed me." Sirius could hear the unsaid _'__Like you did__'_ very clearly. "I had a mother who proved cogently that she loved me, if dying for someone can be taken as a proof of love. I have siblings who drive me mad but I love them nonetheless. With them, I feel like I belong. Remus' parents are my grandparents, as well as Elise's are, their siblings are my uncles and aunts, the children – my cousins." Cane suddenly laughed. "Except for Arielle, but you already know that. My feelings for her aren't quite cousinly. You know that, too."

Each word felt like a knife stabbed in Sirius' heart, but he tried to look calm, because he wanted to hear everything. He had to know it all.

"Finally, I realized that what had happened was so long ago. In another decade. In another life. What does it matter why you did it? What does it matter _what_ you did? It helped turn us all into the people we are. It's over. Finally, I was able to shove it in the past where it belongs. And I'm not angry at you. Not anymore."

_I'd rather have you being angry at me than shoving me in the past_, Sirius thought.

"When I was in and out of conscience in the hospital, I remember that I opened my eyes for a moment. And do you know who I saw?"

Sirius shook his head.

"I saw you, Harry, Arielle, my grandmother, my grandfather, my uncle. And my father. That's what I thought when I saw Remus. My father. And then I started losing conscience again, and his face, the way he looks now, disappeared. Instead of Remus with the little wrinkles and the graying hair, I saw the Remus of my childhood. And there was a thought running in my head, that this Remus would come soon and save me, like he did when I was a child."

This was almost too much for Sirius to bear, although it was the truth. _No, because it is the truth._ He had hoped that Cane would accept him at least as a friend, and now, when Cane finally had done this, he realized that it was not what he wanted at all. _The only thing that matters is that he feels composed now,_ Sirius thought and tried to believe it.

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_**Two hours later…**_

He heard footsteps coming down the corridor. The sound he's been waiting for.

Arielle appeared in his doorframe, closed the door and stood there, looking at him. "Will you forgive me?" she asked. "I had to come."

"I wouldn't have forgiven you if you hadn't come," Cane answered. "Come here."

She crossed the room quickly and quite soundlessly – or maybe it was just a figment of his imagination, because when she was finally here, he didn't need to listen for her footsteps anymore.

Without hesitation, Arielle settled in the bed next to him and he pulled her close to him, feeling the beating of her heart. He closed his eyes. "Merlin, that's a nightmare," he said. "Morgaine and Julian, both in such state."

"Don't forget about yourself," Arielle reminded him.

"Me?" he sounded surprised. Of course he was surprised.

Arielle smiled in the darkness. "Yes, you. The one who took all those Stunners, remember?"

"Ah, the Stunners." Truth be told, he'd been so worried about his siblings that he'd quite forgotten about his own state. Now, when she said that, he was suddenly shamefully aware of the smell of rotting emanating from him – the smell of his own lungs decaying in his chest.

"Don't," Arielle said firmly, placing her head on his chest. "Do not tell me that after waiting for me for – how long? – five years – you are going to let to such a minor detail to spoil everything."

Cane began to smile. "When did you master Legilimancy?" he asked, stroking her long hair.

"When you are concerned, years ago."

"Oh? And pray tell what am I thinking about right now?"

"Right now? About them – Julian and Morgaine."

He sighed. "I suppose I'm overreacting. After all, it's all for Julian's own good and Morgaine is going to live."

Arielle did not say anything; she just snuggled closer and placed a kiss on his shoulder.

"On the other hand, maybe I'm not overreacting, because he is suffering and Morgaine – " His voice broke. "What will happen with Morgaine, Arielle? What will happen, when she sees herself in the mirror?"

"She'll be fine, Cane," the young woman answered firmly. "She's strong. She's going to make it – eventually."

"Yes, but – her face, Arielle! How is she going to stand it when people look at her with disgust or, even worse, pity?"

Arielle started rubbing his arm in a way that she knew always relaxed him. Cane fell silent and for a while, the only sound in the room was his hard breathing. Finally, Arielle snuggled back against him. Not until then she spoke, "She'll find someone," she said with the air of confidence. "The right man. After all, Bill isn't the best looking bloke in England anymore and Fleur still wants to marry him."

"That's right," Cane agreed. "But she's a girl, Arielle – these things are harder for women."

"I know."

He sought her glance in the darkness. "I shouldn't have said that. Of course you know better than anyone."

Arielle smiled. "It's okay. I'm a lucky woman, after all. I have you and you love me so much. One day, Morgaine will have that too."

"Do you believe so?"

"I know so."

Cane's fingers started playing with her hair. "Fine."

After a long moment, he asked, "Why are you here, Arielle?"

"You know why."

"Maybe I do. But I'd like to hear it."

She told him.

"Why now?"

She smiled. "You know why."

"Because you thought I might die."

She nodded.

"Because what I always said finally shoved its way through that stubborn head of yours and you realized that safety is not everything."

Another nod.

"Because we're fighting a war and we can die without ever experiencing what we both want."

Another nod.

This time, Cane hesitated. "Because you've seen John and Eleanor today and you realized that there is fate that is far worse than not having children."

This time, Arielle's lips started trembling and she buried her face in his chest, making his skin all wet with tears. "Merlin, Cane, I miss him!" she whispered through her sobs. "It's been so long, and he never wakes up, and never lives, and I'm his older sister now – he stayed nineteen and – where is Arion? Is he alive? Why does it all happen?"

Cane stroked her hair, trying to fight his own tears and failing. After all, it was Arielle – Arielle, who knew him better than anyone. There was no need to put a brave mask for her.

After a while, Arielle wiped the last tears off his face and stroked his face with a lock of her long hair. "Better?" she asked.

He smiled. "Yes. You?"

She returned the smile. There were no lights on, the pale moon light coming though the window left the room almost in dark, but they did not need to see each other – each of them knew the gestures and expression of the other as if they were their own.

"And now what?" Cane asked.

"And now, we are trying to sleep," Arielle answered. "Don't forget, you've just been discharged from the hospital – in fact, you weren't even discharged, you _ran_ from it – so you need your rest."

Cane suddenly laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"That after seven years of waiting for you, you finally came and I'm feeling too bad to do anything."

"Well, I can wait," she muttered, snuggling closer. "And by the way, it was five years and not seven. Those first kisses when we were fourteen do not count."

"They do!" Cane objected, only to hear a laughter that was quickly stifled against his chest. "They do count!"

"Anything you say, Cane," Arielle answered and by the sound of it, Cane felt that somehow, she had won. He smiled and pulled her closer – he could actually fall asleep now.

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_**Two hours later…**_

"What are you thinking of, Sirius?" James asked, opening his eyes – his biological watch still thought that he had to be in the hospital early in the morning. "You look like you were in trance."

Sirius forced a smile. "About baths and roses," he said and his thoughts led him back to the day when the three of them had been sitting in their living room, Cane grinning after a long mock fight with Padfoot in the bathroom, Angela playing the piano, the smell of roses emanating from her filling Sirius' nostrils. She always smelled of roses, it was a fragrance that Sirius had always associated with her, as well as one of the first things Dementors had taken from him. But it might have not happened. There was just a moment, just one moment, when Angela had been playing the piano. He could have stayed with her and Cane, couldn't he? And then, he could have mended the damage he had inflicted on their relationship, and maybe then he could have listened to her words that it was not Remus, that Remus would have never joined Voldemort, that they had to search for the traitor somewhere else. Then, none of this would have happened. James would not have lived for sixteen years without knowing who he was. Harry wouldn't have to live with those horrible Muggles. Lily wouldn't have died.

And what about them? Sirius would not have wasted his youth in prison. Angela would have lived. Julian would have been born a normal child and wouldn't have been suffering the severe treatment that he was suffering right now. Cane would have had a life full of love and joy and not only the chance to heal the wounds inflicted by what had happened. A normal life. A life with his parents and not other people who had replaced them in his heart.

"_What are you thinking of when you look at me like that, Sirius?" Angela had asked._

"_Like what?" _

"_You are looking at me as though you loved me." _

Now, Sirius could hear the implication. _As though you loved me,_ Angela had said. By this time, their relationship had been steadily worsened, but he never stopped loving her. Yet, she had said it as though she had started doubting his feelings for her. For them. And he had not noticed. If he had, he would have sorted his priorities better. He would have mended things. He would have… but it did not matter anymore, Cane was right about that. No one could recognize in their lives the moments that were really important – not until it was too late.

"Baths and roses?" James asked, surprised.

"And chances," Sirius added. "Don't mind me, I'm being philosophical."

That moment, when the three of them had been so happy in their home, had been such a moment_. __But I didn't know it back then,_ Sirius thought. _Now, I know. __We were very happy together. __Yes, very happy. __If I had known how happy we were__… That__ was my chance. __Maybe everybody is given a chance.__ And I missed it._

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_**Three days later…**_

For a moment, James thought that he had looked into a mirror from the past – the boy in front of him had messy black hair just like his own, a thin face like his own and even the same glasses like his own. He suddenly felt in a loss of words. Sixteen years! Sixteen years, and he had completely forgotten about him.

They both stared at each other, like they were transfixed. Finally, Harry coughed and said, "Err – hello?"

"Hello," James said, and then there was that awful silence again. James wished that Sirius or Remus was present. _How am I supposed to behave with my son, who I haven't seen for sixteen years, without failing everything?__ How on earth did Sirius succeed?_

"It's a pity that there aren't any handbooks for such situations," Harry said, and James laughed with relief. That sounded like something that he himself had said many years ago, when they had first suspected that Remus was a werewolf. Sirius, Peter, and he had decided to handle the situation on their own – one of the poorest decisions they'd ever made, to go to the Shrieking Shack and confront Remus there – a Remus who had already started changing before their arrival. It had been a close call, really. For a first tine, James thought that he and the boy could make it.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "But that's it, and we have to deal with it on our own. I suppose that Remus and the others had already told you the basics of my survival?"

Harry nodded.

"Fine. Now, tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't know. Something about you, or something that happened to you – just something."

Harry thought for a moment. "I suppose you'd like to hear about Fluffy," he finally said.

"Fluffy?" asked James suspiciously. "Does it have something to do with Hagrid? I can easily imagine that he would decide to call a three-headed dog Fluffy."

Harry chuckled and sat on a chair. "You have no idea," he said.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_**A few days later…**_

James had heard of Veelas, of course, who hadn't? Yet, the descriptions of their beauty were nowhere close to reality – he'd never seen such a beautiful woman as Fleur Delacour, now Fleur Weasley. True, her mother and her grandmother were glamorous, but the happiness of the bride made her look even more glorious. _Nothing can make a woman prettier than happiness_, he thought.

Lily had been the same shining bride at their own wedding. _Lily_. He could not stop thinking about her. She had chosen a pink gown, breaking the canon that claimed that red-heads should not wear pink, she had a long draped veil over her face and a big smile that shone everything about her. He himself could not have believed his own happiness. And, of course, the guests – Sirius and Angela with Cane, Remus, Peter – the traitorous bastard! – his parents, Alice and Frank, Emmeline and Moody, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Hagrid and so many others, many of them dead already. Lily herself was dead and this fact had started to finally dawn on him.

Then, he looked again at the bride and sighed. No, it was not true that he hadn't seen such a lovely woman before. He had. Christine, his beautiful second wife, with her silver hair and blue eyes that made her look so much like Fleur Delacour. Only, he had never seen Christine look so uncontrollably happy, even on their wedding day. Fleur had the optimism of a girl to whom everything came easily. Christine had lost it even before meeting him.

"What are you thinking of?" Linda asked, startling him – he had not noticed her approaching.

"Nothing," he said.

She only smiled knowingly – she knew him better than that. For a moment, he thought that she was probably worried that now, when he had finally remembered Lily and learned about her death he would be as devastated as he had been when Carol had died. _Don't worry,_ he wanted to tell her, _I won't fell in depression, I just don't have the time for that. __We're in a war and my son seems to be the most important target of the enemy. __I'll have to postpone my grief for later. __I can do that, I know I can._

"It's so different and yet, the same as it is in my world," Linda said. "It reminds me of my own wedding."

"I'm sure you were a beautiful bride."

She smiled. "I don't know. People said that I was and, most importantly, Chris said that I was. I know that he meant it, and that's why I felt the most beautiful woman in the world right then."

She looked at Harry, who was standing not too far from them, engaged in conversation with his friend Ron and the other two boys, the twins. They were all laughing heartily, poking each other in the ribs. "He looks happy," Linda said.

"He is," James said, looking as the bushy-haired girl, Hermione, joined her friends and Harry's face lit up even more. James finally felt sure that he had made the right decision, when he had assured Molly Weasley that it should be okay for her and her family to give Harry the traditional golden watch. It wasn't the money – he had plenty; it wasn't that he did not want to give Harry this present, because he did. He simply felt that he and Harry were just not close enough for such an important present. Hopefully, there would be many other days and many other presents for him to give Harry. The Weasleys had accepted Harry and had treated him as one of their own, for which he felt immensely grateful; it was only right for them to give him such an important gift. Yet, he had not felt completely sure. Not until now. Seeing Harry among the Weasleys made him smile – even if it had started only seven years ago, his son had had a family.

And then Ron leaned against the others and started whispering to them, pointing at something in the distance. James could not see what it was, but after a brief conversation, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried straight ahead, and Fred and George headed for the opposite direction.

"What's going on?" Linda asked, and James shrugged.

"No idea."

In less than two minutes, everything became clear. Harry, Ron and Hermione returned, dragging a single hooded figure among them. For a wild second, James wondered whether it was a human at all and then sighed with relief when he saw a lock of silver hair that decidedly defined him as such.

"We caught Malfoy!" Ron announced, but his voice was soft – he did not want the guests to know what was going on. He prodded the unconscious person with his wand and was rewarded with a low moan.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked in a threatening voice. "Trying to cause troubles, huh?"

"Sod off," was the reply, and Hermione suddenly frowned and started examining the wand that they had taken from their captive since they had Stunned him.

_A Death Eater in our hands, that's a fine start_, James thought just when Hermione announced, "This is not Malfoy's wand."

"What?" Harry and Ron chorused.

"This is not Malfoy's wand," she repeated, and Ron sighed irritably.

"Really, Hermione, what does it matter? He might have borrowed it from someone else – "

"No, no, I want to see him."

"What?" Harry hissed. "Hermione, do you have any idea what will happen if the guests see a Death Eater here? A panic, that's what will happen."

"I want to see him," she repeated, and James noticed with interest that both boys obeyed her, though grudgingly. Was she their leader? It certainly looked this way.

Ron pulled the hood from their prisoner's face and the next moment, all three of them exclaimed, "This is not Malfoy!"

"Of course this is not Malfoy," the captive said irritably. "Who is he?"

Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at him and then at each other. No wonder they had mistaken him for Malfoy – he had the same blond hair and similar facial features, but despite the similarities, it was definitely not Malfoy.

"Who the hell are you?" Ron asked.

"I am Noel," the stranger said calmly. "And who the hell are you?"

Linda's eyes widened, she caught their looks and nodded at the lawn where Fred and George were walking – with another hooded figure.

"Guess what we have here," Fred said cheerfully.

"Malfoy?" Harry suggested tiredly, and Fred's grin faded when he saw the Malfoy standing in front of him.

"What's going on?"

"Just take the hood off," Hermione said impatiently.

Fred did so and they saw another Malfoy who was not Malfoy. The only difference between the two was the fact that the second Malfoy seemed to have more delicate features, and long hair, and a certain curve to his chest…

"You're a _girl_?" George exclaimed.

"Merlin's pants!" was the angry response. "What the hell did you take me for?"

"Not a girl!"

"Well, thank you!" she hissed. "Now, I want some answers. What the hell is going on here? Why did you attack us? Who is this Draco Malfoy person? Are we at the right place at all?"

"It depends on your definition of a right place," Fred said, smirking and looking at her with interest. She was really good-looking, if not for her clothes that were tattered because of the falling when the twins had Stunned her.

"Fleur Delacour's wedding," Noel said, and the others exchanged glances.

"Well, this is the right place, but what do you want?"

All Hermione received was raised eyebrows. "Excuse me? Fleur invited us."

"What?"

"Oh, Merlin, it will never work this way," the girl sighed, annoyed. "Where is Fleur? Where are Cane and Arielle? Is at least Messier Lupin here – we need to talk to somebody normal."

"Normal?" Ron bristled, and Hermione quickly touched his arm to calm him down.

"I'll bring them here," she promised, leaving her friends alone with the two strangers who obviously thought that they were facing a bunch of lunatics.

Cane and Arielle were the first two people she found, and by their arrival on the scene things had not changed to better. The two groups were still looking at each other with suspicion.

"Cane! Arielle! Finally!" the boy exclaimed when he saw them.

"What's going on here?" Cane asked. "What do you think you are doing? Release them!"

"Do you really know them?" Harry asked.

"Of course we do – they are classmates of ours. Now, let them free."

"Are you sure about that?" George asked. "Maybe it would be better if – "

He never finished his sentence, because all of a sudden, his arms were pressed together under the girl's left arm; her right arm had seized his head which was twisted under a strange angle in her embrace; she needed less than a second to finish the winding that would leave George with a broken neck. Her voice sounded coldly when she said, "Maybe it would be better if we give us our wands back and tell us what's going on?"

"Cissy, don't!" Cane said sharply.

There was a sound erupting from George's throat that made everyone look at him. What they saw made them even more alert. He was choking on his own laughter. Merlin! Did he really find it funny that the girl had got the best of him?

Arielle turned to Fred and the others and stamped her foot. "Are you going to return their wands, or are you going to let her kill George?" she asked. "George may think it is funny that she outsmarted him, but Cissy certainly does not share his good mood. She _is_ going to kill him."

"I see," Fred said, and then, by some unknown reason, he too started laughing. He was still laughing when he handed each wand to its owner. "Merlin, she is so funny!"

"She, "the girl – Cissy – said, "is also at the verge of her patience, so keep your mouth shut or I'll – "

"How are your parents?" Arielle asked, and Cissy's face softened.

"They are still at St. Lazarre's," she said. "In fact, we had more than one reason to come here. You see, we are supposed to find Sirius Black – "

"You already did," a voice from behind them said, and Sirius smiled at them. "I must admit that there's been a while since such a charming young lady tried to find me."

"Save your charm for the other ladies," Cane said with a smile of his own, "this one is a relative."

"She is?" Sirius asked.

"I am?" Cissy asked at the same time, equally surprised.

Cane sighed, foreseeing the explosion. He had no choice but tell it. "Sirius Black, meet you niece and your nephew, Cissy and Noel Lerois."

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**A. N. ****I'll try to stick as much to the canon as possible – it's more challenging th****at**** way. ****So, what do you think ****this**** far?**


	23. Travelling through a Pensieve

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 23

"What the hell was that for?" Noel asked in French. "Do you understand something, Cissy?"

She shook her head and the red-haired boy looked at her with suspicion. Cissy suppressed an irritated sigh and crossed her long legs in elegant manner. She was already sorry for losing her temper with the boy's brother but she had not been able to stop herself. She was on the edge of her patience, she had not slept properly in days, she fretted about her parents and her brother who were still in St. Lazarre's in bad state and being Disarmed and dragged like a sack of potatoes had not exactly helped improving her mood. _If Cane doesn't come here in a minute, he'll be sorry_, she thought. Throwing such a bomb and then disappearing along with his father and Arielle, leaving them there with all those mad people. _He'd better have a good reason for this_.

"I'm sorry," the bushy-haired girl told them. 'We just thought it was Malfoy… you see, you do look like him and…"

Cissy supposed that they should tell her that it was okay, but the truth was, it wasn't. She only nodded. In fact, she was more than a little alarmed. It was not the first time they were told about a boy, who looked exactly like them – after visiting Hogwarts for the Threewizard Tournament, many of their friends had said that they've met a quite unpleasant boy, Draco Malfoy, who resembled Cissy and Noel very much – one had even asked whether they had a long lost twin!

"I don't like it," Noel said grimly, still in French.

"I thought you didn't understand what's going on," she hissed in reply.

"I don't, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"Really, genius? Tell me something I don't know."

The red-head boy and the bushy—haired girl exchanged nervous glances – they might not understand the language Cissy and Noel were speaking in, but they knew a forthcoming quarrel when they heard one. The other two grinned and Cissy thought of wiping that stupid smirk off the one-eared guy's face. Any other person, who'd been overpowered by a girl, would have feel too uncomfortable to even look at her, but _no_. Not _this_ guy. In fact, he was grinning at _her_.

"Stop looking at him like that," Noel said sharply.

"Like what?" Cissy wanted to know, glaring at her brother.

Noel opened his mouth, but the arrival of Cane, Arielle and Sirius Black prevented him from answering.

"Just in time, mate" the two-eared guy chuckled, "they were on their way to forget that you're the one that they want to strangle."

"I am not so sure anymore," Noel said flatly, and the redhead grinned even more broadly.

"We haven't introduced ourselves, have we? Fred and George Weasley, glad to meet other twins. This is our brother Ron and this is Hermione Granger."

"We are not interested in introductions right now," Cissy cut in, without giving Noel the time to answer. Strangely, she was not looking at Fred, while she was saying that, but at George instead. His grin widened and he even winked at her, which made her look aside. She would not give this guy the pleasure of knowing that after Stunning her, _and_ dragging her like something that the cat would have dragged through the puddles, _and_ mistaking her for a boy, he had _also_ given her the needle.

"What's going on, Cane?" Noel asked. "Why did you say it?"

"Because it's true," Cane sighed, and looked at the Weasleys and Hermione. George pretended not to notice.

"Well, that's going to be interesting," he announced in the same manner that Mrs Lupin had once promised to her grandchildren that they would like the TV movie.

Cane and Arielle exchanged looks. It was going to be hard enough even without the twins' cheerful interference. "Guys," Cane said, "it's something that is very private for my family and may have important consequences for all of us. I don't know where exactly we are standing right now, so please don't make it harder than it already is."

The laughter disappeared from the twins' faces and George gave Cane a long look. "Is it that serious, Cane?"

"Yes," the Metamorphmagus, who had recently started to regain some control over his morphing, said. "Yes, it is serious, Fred."

Fred sighed dramatically. "Well, there is a Firewhiskey in this cabinet, in case that someone needs it."

Hermione stood up. "Come on, guys," she said, "let's find Harry."

She headed for the door, accompanied by the three Weasleys. Arielle made a movement to follow them, but Cissy stopped her. "Don't," she said. "After all, Cane is going to tell you everything about it later, so you can as well stay here."

"Are you sure?" Arielle asked, and there was a sudden smile crossing Cissy's face.

"We've been sharing our lives with you for seven years, guys. We have no problems sharing our identity."

"Besides, I have the strong suspicion that you know about it more than we do, at that point," Noel said sharply. "What did you mean by that, Cane?"

Cane sighed. "Everybody, take a seat," he said. "Do you want a glass of Firewhiskey, Cissy? Noel?"

They both shook their heads. "What are you trying to postpone, Cane?" the girl asked. "Just say it, it can't be this bad."

"You won't think this way once you know, Cissy," he muttered.

"Cissy?"

Sirius had finally decided to contribute to the conversation. _Cissy? She called her daughter _Cissy_ and she dared say that she was not a Death Eater? The nerve of that woman!_

Cane could say what Sirius thought just by the expression on his face. "_Cecilia_ Lerois," he said.

"Is something wrong with my name?" she wanted to know, and Cane knew he had to say it before things go out of control.

"No, Sirius just thought that your mother had named you after their cousin, that's all."

"Excuse me? _Their_ cousin?"

"Yes. You've never heard your mother's maiden name, have you?"

Cissy and Noel looked at each other. No one of them wanted to admit that they knew almost nothing about their mother's life before she married their father, but Cane seemed to know that. "Your mother was born Selena Black. She is Sirius' sister."

Silence.

"You're mad."

"She told me herself."

"What?"

"She was here last month. She told me who she was, I had no idea. Later, she was in the hospital. Everybody saw her – Arielle, her parents, everyone."

It was a good thing that Cissy was seated, because otherwise she would have fallen onto the floor, her face was so shocked. "This is impossible!" she said. "Why would mum tell _you_ such a thing and keep it from _us_?"

Cane shifted uncomfortably. Should he tell them about the Horcrux? He looked at Arielle who shrugged. They were both having the same thought: the less people knew about this, the better. It was not that they did not trust Noel and Cissy. They did. It was just safer this way.

Yet, they had to give them some explanation. While Cane was wondering what the proper explanation should be, Noel, who had been staring at Sirius for a while, saved him the trouble. "It could be true," he said. "Cissy, remember the photo?"

She frowned. "What photo?"

"The one that we found in Mum's locker." Still nothing. "When we were nine."

"I still don't – Oh, _the_ photo!"

Of course she remembered! They had been nine and they had been rummaging through their mother's things, as all children liked doing, and they had found the photo. A boy with black hair and slightly arrogant smile – and their mother had been so furious when she had caught them! She had given them a stern lecture about not looking in other people's belongings. After that, the locker had always been protected by Selena Lerois' strongest spells. When Cissy thought of that now and looked at Cane –

"He's the boy from the picture!" she exclaimed, and Noel shook his head, obviously annoyed with her.

"Really, Cissy, do you think it is possible? We found the picture of that boy years ago; he really looks very much like Cane, but that's impossible. The guy must be thirty or so by now."

"I know," his sister agreed. "Do you think it was Sirius Black?"

"It was not me," Sirius himself decided to answer. "It was Regulus, our brother. Your mother's twin."

They gave him identical disbelieving looks. He sighed. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. Why did you come to find me?"

"Our mother told us to, when we visited her in the hospital," Noel said.

"How is she?" Sirius asked. "And how is your brother?"

The boy shrugged. "They will survive," he said.

"Good."

"However, Mum didn't have the strength to tell us anything. She just told us to find you and gave us – " He fumbled in his pocket and took out a small bag. After enlarging it to its actual size, he took a few small bottles out of it. It was full of glittering mass.

"That's Selena's memories!" Sirius exclaimed, and Noel nodded, leaving the bottles on the table next to him. "Have you already seen them?"

"We didn't have a Pensieve," Cissy said. "And besides, Mum wanted to show them to you, the three of us to see them together."

Sirius frowned. "I wonder what she is after," he said. "Good. I'll find a Pensieve."

"There is one at Grimmauld Place," Arielle intervened. "I'll bring it here."

She left the house to Apparate outside.

"What are we going to do while we're waiting for her to come back?" Sirius asked.

Noel and Cissy looked at each other. "You know something that we don't," she said. "I think that maybe you should say it to us."

"Alright," Sirius agreed, "what do you know?"

"Obviously nothing," the girl admitted. "All we know is that Mum used to attend Hogwarts before marrying Dad. We've never heard the name Selena Black."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Merlin, you really don't know anything."

"Told you so."

"Alright, where should I start from? I know, from the beginning. I take it that you know about the pureblood mania in its strongest form?"

They nodded.

"The family that your mother and I descend from, the Black family, is a classical case of such a mania. Full of pride with our old pureblood line and regard with contempt everyone who is a Muggle-born or worse, a Muggle. Beheading our house-elves when they grow too old to serve properly. That's how we were brought up – I, your mother and Regulus. Slytherin, all Blacks, one after another, until I went to Hogwarts and was Sorted in Gryffindor."

"Mum was in Slytherin," Cissy said suddenly, and her brother gave her a strange look.

"How do you know that? You never told me about it." Noel said.

She shrugged. "I didn't think it mattered. Mum mentioned it once. She said that Gryffindors and Slytherins were at each other's throats at every chance they got."

Sirius laughed. "Pretty true."

Cissy gave him a stern look. "She said another thing, too."

"What was it?"

"That Gryffindors had a higher opinion of themselves than other people had of God. She said that if you'd ask one particular Gryffindor, Sirius Black, whether he'd prefer to be God or Sirius Black, he'd probably ask what the difference was."

Silence. Then Sirius burst into laughter – deep, full-toned, sincere laughter. "Merlin, you really are related to my sister," he finally managed to say between his fits. "Yes, she'd say just that."

"You two did have opinions about each other, Sirius, huh?" Cane said, and Sirius laughed again.

"Keep to the point, if you please," Noel said impatiently. "You were talking about your Sorting. I'd risk to guess that you, Mum, and Regulus were at each other's throats ever since then, right?"

Sirius looked embarrassed. "Yes and no," he said. "Your mother and I – it's complicated."

"I see," Noel shrugged.

"Who did they take us for?" Cissy suddenly asked. "Harry Potter and the redheads."

"Draco Malfoy," Sirius said. "A boy who's a few years older than you. A Death Eater."

"A Death Eater, you say?" Noel looked surprised. "Younger than us, you say? Voldemort accepts _children _there?" he asked, and Sirius was glad that the boy did not flinch before saying Voldemort's name.

"The circumstances were quite extraordinary," the Animagus explained shortly. Where was Arielle? How hard should it be to bring the damned Pensieve here?

"Why haven't we heard anything about you or any other member of Mum's family?" Noel asked.

"Your mother ran away when she was sixteen. We didn't know what happened to her."

"I understand," Noel nodded, then frowned and looked at Cane. "Do I understand, Cane?"

Cane shrugged. There was no sign of Arielle yet, so Sirius decided to go straight to the point. "I suppose it had something to do with your father."

He looked so uncomfortable that Cissy took pity of him and said, "Don't worry, we know that Dad is not our real father. He adopted us when he married Mum. We know that."

Sirius looked relieved. If they already knew the basic lines of their family history, it would be easier for him to explain the rest. "Your real father is Lucius Malfoy – a well known Death Eater."

Cissy gasped and Noel took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Are you serious?" he asked.

Sirius felt that it was not the moment to use the old joke about his name, and only nodded. "I have no doubt about it," he said. "You look a lot like him and he and Selena were engaged. She ran away two days before the wedding."

"Well, that explains a lot," Noel said coolly. "I suppose you know nothing about the reasons behind her decision?"

Sirius looked away. "Err – no."

"I thought so."

"Lucius Malfoy," Cissy said, "I've heard of him – read some English newspapers – wasn't he supposed to be in prison?"

"Yes, but he escaped, along with other Death Eaters, including your Aunt Bellatrix – my cousin. She was one of those who attacked your house. I could swear that Selena's condition is mostly due to her interference – marrying a Muggle and dishonoring the house of Black and so on."

"Merlin!" Noel ran a hand through his hair. "Cane, I think I'll accept that Firewhiskey after all."

Cane silently poured a glass for him.

"I'd like a drink too, if you please, Cane," Cissy said.

Cane gave her the drink and filled another glass for Noel. They both drained them at a gulp, and then Cissy sat up straight, her legs elegantly crossed, her hands immobile in her lap, the image of the perfect lady. Sirius suddenly felt sad, because her unblinking gaze and pale face were enough for him to understand that she needed to cling to this image in order to not fall apart. Noel was looking resolutely through the window.

Finally, Arielle came in. "I'm sorry," she said, "I couldn't find it right away. I – "

"Never mind," Sirius answered, taking the Pensieve from her. Noel opened one of the bottles and poured its content into the Pensieve. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," Noel confirmed, but Cissy's face had turned slightly green. "There's no need for you to come with us," he said in a quiet voice. "I can see what it is and tell you everything later."

Cissy shook her head, although it was clear that she was afraid of what she might find out. "I'm coming," she said, and even managed a smile. Whatever her mother might have done, she could handle it.

Cane and Arielle looked at them. "Good luck!" the young woman said softly.

And they all looked in the Pensieve.

The first memory was situated in a room that was completely unfamiliar to Cissy and Noel, but Sirius recognized it immediately – it was Selena's old bedroom in Grimmauld Place, with the bright blue curtains and bedspread and furniture made of pinewood. There was a vase with bright red flowers next to her bed and her dressing table was covered with ointments, perfumes, lipsticks and so on. Their eyes were completely drawn to the wedding dress that was spread over the bed. It was white and shining, and covered with pearls, but not too ornate.

Well, Cissy's mother had always had a good taste.

Selena was standing near the window, obviously lost in thoughts. She was sixteen or seventeen there, Sirius could not say for sure. Her dark hair was loose and her eyes were full of worry. She was absent-mindedly folding a lock of her hair over her finger.

Cissy gave a muffled cry, when a young man entered the room. Silver-blond hair, square jaw, oh Merlin, he looked just like Noel, but a few years older. She looked at Sirius. "Is that - ?"

He nodded. "He is indeed, Cissy."

The young man came behind Selena, who had not noticed his entering. She gave a startled squeal, when he kissed the back of her neck.

"Calm down, calm down, Selena, it's just me!"

"For Merlin's sake, Lucius!" she screamed. "Why are you stealing up like this? So silently! You scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy," he apologized, although the smile did not slipped from his face. "I thought you've heard me. Is this your wedding gown?"

That was obviously a wrong thing to say, because she looked irritated. "You weren't supposed to see it before the wedding."

"Ah, yes, I've heard of this," he said nonchalantly. "I can't see it before the wedding because something will go wrong. Do you really believe this nonsense, Selena?"

She shrugged. He laughed. "You do! Really, What do you think could happen? The wedding is in four days, we have everything arranged."

"Mother keeps asking me why are in such a hurry," she said. "And Father is not pleased that I won't go back at Hogwarts this year."

"Well, you'll finish your graduation later," Lucius said calmly. "Not that you'll ever need it. I'll take care of you, you can trust me."

For a first time, Selena smiled. "I know that," she said. "It's just – I'd really like to go back for my final year with everyone else."

"It's either Hogwarts or the baby," Lucius said harshly. "It's your choice."

She smiled again and pulled his head up for a kiss. "I've already made my choice."

The Pensieve grew misty. The memory was over. Sirius and the two young people landed on the floor and Noel carefully drained the Pensieve into the bottle that had originally contained the memory. His face was stony. Cissy, on the other hand, looked confused. "What happened?" she asked. "Mum was in love with him. It was clear, I saw her face. What made her ran away from him?"

She did not really expect an answer. Noel put the next memory into the Pensieve and they bent over it.

This time they found themselves on a dark street in some Muggle village, with a brightly illuminated pub. There were three people right in front of them – Lucius, Selena and a young woman that Sirius recognized immediately – Bellatrix Lestrange. He took a deep breath, surprised to feel the sudden pain that was swelling his chest. _She was so young and beautiful. I have forgotten how beautiful she was_. When he thought of Bellatrix now, he always saw her gaunt face, her coarse hair and the fanatical gleam in her sunken eyes. Seeing her young felt like a physical blow. _So beautiful. Azkaban robbed her of her good looks the way it did with me. Have I ever been this young? Young and handsome, with the typical Black looks?_ Never had Sirius felt the cruelty of his own fate as sharply as he did now, while he was looking at the young Bellatrix, who resembled him so much and who would finally become a wreck like – like him.

The fanatical gleam in her eyes was the same, though. With a sunken feeling, Sirius realized what it should indicate even before seeing the impatience that was written on Malfoy's face. "They are going to kill someone," he said with certainty, and Noel and Cissy looked at him, horrified.

"But Mum is there, with them!" Noel exclaimed. "She surely wouldn't – "

But if she knew what Bellatrix and Lucius were planning to do, the young Selena did not seem to have objections. In fact, she looked eager and impatient and her hand was constantly itching for her wand.

"Eager to prove yourself, cousin?" Bellatrix laughed. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. You'll receive your Mark in a few days. The greatest wedding gift you could have."

Selena nodded. "I can't wait," she said.

"No!" Cissy exclaimed and her face lost its entire color.

The door of the pub opened and a group of four people stepped out. "They are the first ones," Bellatrix whispered and stepped back to have a better view. "Get your wand ready, Selena."

The girl did so. Only Sirius, who was looking right at her, saw the way her hand suddenly started shaking.

"_Crucio_!" Bellatrix shouted, Cissy cried in horror and grabbed her brother's hand, and one of the Muggles fell to the ground, crying out in pain. The other three tried to help him without knowing what was the reason for his suffering.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" roared another voice, and the next of the men fell on the ground.

"Stop it!" Selena screamed, her face as white as a sheet. "Bella, Lucius! Stop it! _Stop_!"

None of them paid any attention to her words. Selena pointed the wand that was shaking in her hand, at Bellatrix' victim, and cried, "_Finite incantatem_!"

Bellatrix and Lucius were so surprised that they did not realize immediately what she had done. Then, with confusion written all over her face, Bellatrix asked, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Stop it!" Selena repeated, with more confidence this time.

Bellatrix burst out laughing. "Stop it?" she repeated. "Why should I spoil the fun? You were eager to do it yourself five minutes ago!"

"I am not now!" Selena snapped. "Let's go home."

"Go home before the end? I don't think so."

The three surviving Muggles were trying to get on their feet and Bellatrix gave them a disgusted look. "You're feeling sorry for _this_?" she asked.

"Let them go!"

"Don't mind her, Bella," Lucius said in a reconciling voice, "it's her first time, after all, and our Selena is quite sensitive. She'll have the time to become accustomed to it."

He reached to stroke her cheek but Selena evaded his touch. During their argument, the Muggles had managed to disappear in the darkness and the only one left was the corpse of the man that Lucius had killed. No matter how hard she was trying not to look at him, Selena's eyes were constantly attracted to his opened mouth and his eyes, wide opened and full with surprise. She turned aside and retched on the ground.

The memory faded. The three of them raised their heads, not meeting each other's eye, still shaken by the torture that they had just witnessed. "So, that was the breaking point," Sirius finally said. "I've always wondered what made her turn against him."

The next memory showed Selena, who was stealthily going down the stairs of the Noble House of Black, her expression intense, her behavior showing that she was afraid of being seen. Which she was. There was a sudden light and a tall frame emerged from the shadows.

"You're leaving," a male voice said. By then, their eyes had become accustomed with the dark and they saw the person who was speaking – a tall boy, no more than sixteen or seventeen, with the same black hair and pale skin that Selena and Sirius shared. Regulus.

"Reg, God, you scared me!" Selena exclaimed and then threw a quick look around to make sure that no one had heard her.

"Where are you planning to go?" Regulus' eyes did not leave hers and Selena looked nervously at the small bag she was carrying with her. Sirius was willing to bet that its inside had been magically enlarged to contain a lot of luggage.

"Nowhere," Selena whispered.

"Really?" Her brother's voice was cold. "Why don't I believe you?" he asked. "You're running away. Just like _he_ did." He laughed darkly. "What did he do, placed a charm on you or what?"

"Sirius has nothing to do with it," the girl answered. "Well, he does, but not the way you think."

"Why, Sel?" Regulus whispered. "What are you running away from? Only two days ago you were so happy. I don't understand!"

There was anger on his face, but there was also sadness. Selena sighed, took him by the arm and led him in the empty living room. "I have to," she said, leaving her bag on the floor.

"Why?"

She looked deeply into his eyes. "Because it is wrong, Reg. Everything I thought I knew is wrong. Mum. Dad. Lucius. You and me."

"I can't help but notice that the blood-traitor is not included in your list," he remarked bitterly.

"Sirius was right, Reg. I hate saying it, but he's been right all along. The purity of blood can't be this important. Not when human lives are being taken away. It's not worth it, can't you see it?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I saw them performing the _Avada Kedavra_. And the _Cruciatus_. It was awful, Reg. That – that can't be right."

"The Muggles should be taught their place!"

"Oh, don't give me this speech!" she interrupted him impatiently. "I've heard it as often as you have. This isn't the way, Reg. It's just a stupid cruelty. No matter what they are, they don't deserve this – no one does!"

Something in his eyes made hers flash with realization. "Can you do it?" she asked.

"Can I do what?"

"The Unforgivables. Can you perform them?"

He hesitated for a moment but it was enough for her to have her suspicions confirmed. "You can't, can you?"

He did not answer.

"Come with me, Reg. Let's go away from this madness. It's a madness, they're all mad –Lucius, Bella, everyone. No normal person could take delight in torturing and killing other peoples, Muggles or not." She took his hands in her own. "Come with me, let's do it together!"

He released his hands and roughly pushed her aside. "I am not the one to repudiate my obligations! That's _his_ specialty – and yours, too, it seems."

"Reg – "

"Leave!" he hissed angrily. "Leave, if you want it this much. But don't expect of me to share your madness."

She made a step towards him and although he tried to turn his head aside, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "There will be a day when you'll realize how wrong you are. I expect that you'll feel like the world has just crashed down on you. When it happens, come to me. Wherever I am, I know you'll find me. I'll accept you. I'll be waiting, Reg."

"Then you're a fool."

"I'll be waiting," she repeated. "Good-bye, Reg."

She took her bag and left the room. When she reached the threshold, she turned back and saw Regulus quickly and angrily wiping the tears that had filled his eyes despite his will.

"Did he ever go to her?" Cissy asked after they had stored the third memory into its bottle. "Do you know?"

"He did," Sirius said, "but we have to look at the last two of your mother's memories to know what happened."

This time the Pensieve took them to a busy Parisian street. It was the beginning of the spring and everything was still covered in snow. The shop windows were ornate with shining lamps and green branches. People were walking slowly into the snow, going window-shopping and chatting. Selena was doing the same thing – walking slowly and occasionally looking at the various shops. Like the others, she was dressed in a thick coat, but it was billowing in front of her – it was obvious that she was far on her time. There was a fashion magazine, called _Magique beaute_, sticking out of her pocket. It was opened on an article signed with her name. It was obvious that she was earning her living by writing in magical magazines about fashion and cosmetics.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not pay much attention to the street that she was walking in. She stepped on an ice block, slipped and fell on the roadway, just in front of the tyres of a red car – a sports Ferrari, whose driver came out and rushed towards her and helped her stand. He was a young man in his early twenties, and his face was full of horror.

"Dad!" Cissy exclaimed.

"How are you?" he asked, steadying her on her fight. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry – "

"It's my fault," Selena said shakily, "I wasn't looking at my feet – "

And then her face contorted and she let out a sharp hissing of breath.

"What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"It's the baby," she said, "I think that the time for delivery has come."

Without saying anything, the young man grabbed her in his arms, placed her in his car and started driving.

"So, that's how they met," Noel said, smiling, after they left the Pensieve, "she fell right in front of his car."

Sirius was shaking his head in disbelief. _From Lucius Malfoy to the man who almost smashed her with his car, _he thought_. Selena would never stop amazing me_.

The last memory took them to a place that Noel and Cissy had known forever – the dining room in their Parisian home. Sirius had never seen it, but its size and the exquisite furniture gave him a hint that the Lerois family did not belong to the middle class. "You have a lot of money, don't you?" he asked.

"Wine." Noel shrugged. "Our family has been producing wine for centuries. Grandmother even founded a cosmetics company, based on the properties of grapes. Later, she expanded her activity and became quite famous."

Sirius remembered that Angela had used to wear make-up with that trade-mark. "I've heard of it."

Meanwhile, Selena and Jean-Paul Lerois were having their dinner, talking of everyday things. They seemed to feel happy with each other's presence. _Well, they should be_, Sirius thought, noticing Selena's large stomach – she was pregnant again.

They were eating their dessert, when their butler, Hubert, came in and discreetly whispered in Selena's ear something that Sirius did not quite catch. Her face paled and she looked at her husband. "I'll be back soon," she said and left the room.

The lounge where she went was large, with high ceiling and two sofas, one in the middle of the room and the other in a corner. Through a vault arch, one could enter the other part of the room, where the antique piano was placed. The fireplace was built of greenish granite with oak friezes.

He was there, standing in front of the fireplace, looking like he's just come out of hell, but still handsome. Still so dear to her.

"This fireplace is meant for Firecalling," he said, instead of a greeting.

"I don't use it for such things," Selena answered.

"Shame on you. My hands are itching to throw a little Fire powder in it."

She looked at the bundle that he was carrying in his arms. "What is that?"

He moved the bundle, so Selena could see the dark hair and olive skin of the child that was sleeping peacefully in Regulus' arms. "That is Cane," he said. "He's Sirius'."

She blinked but soon regained control. "Give him here," she said, and Regulus placed the little boy on the nearer sofa, carefully covering him with his own cloak, then followed Selena in the other part of the room.

"What's going on, Reg?" she asked. "Why is he with you?"

"To keep him safe until Voldemort decides to kill him," her brother answered bitterly. "There's no need to look at me like that, Sel, I'm not planning on doing it. I'll bring him to his parents as soon as possible."

"You said his name," she observed.

He laughed darkly. "I did, didn't I? You know, you were right, Sel, about the madness, about – everything. Are you happy now?"

"I'm not happy to see you in pain," she said.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Do you remember what you asked me the last time we saw each other?" he asked.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I can do it, Sel. Now, I can cast the Unforgivables – each one of them."

Her face lost all its color. It was one thing knowing that this might happen, and quite another actually hearing it. "I feared that," she finally said.

"You knew, didn't you?" Regulus asked. "You knew that finally, I'd become one of them."

She nodded. "I feared that," she repeated. "What made you turn against them?"

He looked at her intently. "Why do you think I've turned against them?"

"Haven't you?"

He laughed again, his dark eyes strangely empty. "I feel like the world has crashed down on me. Your words, remember?"

Silently, Selena went to him, took his face in her palms and looked at him closely, then, very slowly, his arms encircled her. She returned the hug and they stood like that in a long tome, clinging to each other, then Regulus gently pushed her aside. "When is your time?" he asked.

"In less than a month – "

Regulus shook his head. "A Muggle," he said, "who would have guessed." He paused. "Does he treat you well?" he asked.

"Yes, very well."

"That's good. Now, Sel, listen to me, because we don't have much time. It's very important."

"Merlin, Reg, what happened?"

"Too many things," he answered. "Look, I need your help."

"You'll have it," she replied immediately, "but I want Jean-Paul to witness our conversation."

"Are you sure?"

"If it is this important, I want him to know," Selena said calmly.

"Does he know about our world?"

"Yes, I've told him everything that's important." She smiled. "When you get married one day, Reg, you'll know that marriage is a partnership."

"I don't think I'll ever know this," Regulus muttered, following her in the corridor.

Hubert had cleared the table and Jean-Paul was leaning comfortably in his chair, waiting for her. When he saw that she wasn't alone, he stood up and offered his hand to the newcomer for a handshake.

"This is my brother," Selena said, "Regulus Black. Reg, meet Jean-Paul Lerois, my husband."

The two men shook hands and Sirius briefly wondered whether Regulus would wipe his hand in his clothes after touching the Muggle or not. He didn't.

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?" he asked.

Selena looked horrified.

"What is it?" Jean-Paul asked.

Neither Sirius nor the twins needed Regulus' explanation about Horcruxes, but they were forced to hear it nonetheless. Cissy's eyes reached the size of saucers, when Regulus told her parents about the seven-split soul, and even Noel looked concerned, but none of this could compare to Selena's shock at her brother's news. "And you just went there and drank the bloody potion?" she said disbelievingly. "And here I was, thinking that Sirius is the idiot in the family. _Where was your bloody mind?_" she yelled. "You could have been _killed_!"

"I'll be killed," Regulus said calmly. "In a few days, I suppose."

"Are you serious?" Jean-Paul asked, because Selena was stunned into silence.

"No, my brother is Sirius," Regulus joked. "Now, Sel, listen to me. When I don't give Cane back to them, they'll know that I've betrayed them. How much are you willing to bet on my survival?"

"I'm not laying a loosing bet," she answered shortly. "Reg, there must be another way – "

"There isn't… " His voice faded. "Sel, you know that there isn't… "

She nodded. "I know, Reg… I know.. "

The three of them fell silent. Regulus was the one who finally spoke, "So, here it is."

He searched through his pocket and put a locket on the table. Selena and Jean-Paul looked at it as if it were a poisonous snake. "But what am I going to do with it?" the young woman asked.

"Think of somewhere where you can store it safely."

Regulus was looking calmly at his astounded sister.

"What?"

"If you can find a way to destroy it, be my guest. It would be the best for the whole world, but I'm afraid that you won't have more success than I did. Put it somewhere safe, so one day, when Cane is ready to remember it – I've put a charm on him, so don't bother, he will remember, – you'll be able to give the Chosen One a part of Lord Voldemort's soul."

His sister's stunned look was obviously started to annoy him, so he added, "And stop pretending, we both know that out of three of us, you've always had the most inventive mind. It used to drive Sirius mad… If someone loses their head in dangerous situations, that isn't you. Just do it."

Selena nodded reluctantly, and Regulus stood up, looking exhausted. "I'll go, then," he said.

"No, stay! Just for a while."

He hesitated, but then he slumped back onto his chair. "Alright," he said. "Just for a while."

The Pensieve became dim. The memory was over. Sirius and the twins returned to the room, affected deeply by what they had just witnessed – a man, who was walking towards his death by his own will. Cane and Arielle didn't ask them anything. Finally, Noel said, "They didn't say where the locket was hidden. Do you think that Mum has managed to destroy it?"

"Maybe," Cissy hesitated.

"She hasn't," Sirius interrupted her, "you can believe me. No, it is hidden somewhere, but where?"

"Mum wanted us to see this memory," Noel said, "and I suppose that she was afraid of it falling into the wrong hands. That's why she chose a memory that doesn't reveal anything specific. She relied on us to find it out."

"Then, try and find it out," Sirius said.

In less than a minute, Cissy did just that. "I found it!" she announced.

"Did you?" her brother asked, and she grinned.

"I did," she confirmed, and made a dramatic pause. "It is kept in a Swiss bank!"

The others looked confused. "What is a Swiss bank?" Sirius asked.

"Are you sure?" Cane wanted to know.

"Mum and Dad always say that the most secure place in the Muggle world is the vault of a Swiss bank," Cissy explained.

"They do," Noel agreed. "But – a Muggle bank? A Swiss bank or not, if a wizard decides he wants to enter it, then he will enter it."

"Oh, Selena must have protected it with some spells and hexes against intruders," Sirius said, and then laughed. "A seventh part of the so called soul of the biggest Muggle-hater in existence. In the vault of a Muggle bank."

"What are we going to do now?" Cissy asked.

"Well, isn't it clear?" Cane said. "I've never seen the Alps. Not the Swiss Alps, anyway."

23


	24. A Journey to Switzerland

**Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.**

_Thanks to __**my old and new reviewers. I'm sorry I can't reply to each one personally, but I'm having my flat repaired and for a while, I did not HAVE a flat to talk about. Now, it's better: I have a building site instead *grin* Hopefully, in a few weeks I'll have my flat back and it'll be prettier than I exoect.**_

Chapter 24

_**Two days later…**_

"They've gone _where_?" Raymond Lupin asked disbelievingly.

"To Switzerland," James repeated. "Hunting a Horcrux – they said Selena Black must have left it in a Swiss bank – "

Raymond gave him a tired look. "So, I heard you correctly," he said. "I kind of hoped I hadn't."

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, looking around at the faces gathered in the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. James Potter, Linda Carter, Morgaine Lupin, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger all stared back at him, their eyes as tired as his own. "So, the Ministry has fallen, Remus and Tonks nowhere in sight, and Arielle, Cane, Noel, and Cissy are running after a Horcrux_? A Horcrux that Bellatrix Lestrange is after_?"

"Yes, that pretty much sums it all up," James agreed. "Nice."

Raymond shrank him with a look. "_Nice?_ Please forgive me, James; I'm not finding the prospective of my daughter facing Bellatrix Lestrange too _nice_."

James looked at him with surprise, and, noticing his tired eyes, decided to let it slip. "They're with Sirius."

Raymond gave him a look. "That's exactly what's bothering me," he said and without the slightest hesitation, went over to the fireplace, threw Floo powder in it and said, kneeling, "Chateau de Sent Claire."

After a minute, an old house-elf's head appeared in the fire and its wrinkled face cracked into a smile. _"Hello, Master Raymond,"_ he said in French.

"_Hello, Kayes,"_ Raymond said. _"How are you?"_

"_Kayes is happy, Master Raymond,"_ the old house-elf squealed, _"with the young Master and Mistress here. Kayes has missed having children here, Master Raymond."_

"_Good. Is Philippe there?"_

"_He is, Master Raymond. Kayes is calling him in a minute."_

Another head appeared in the fire – a man in his middle forties, with black hair and worry in his eyes. _ "Yes, Raymond?"_

"_Philippe, Arielle, Cane, and three of their friends have arrived in Paris, dealing with very dangerous business,"_ Raymond said. _"Can you arrange for a few of your people to find them and watch over them? They will probably want to leave as soon as possible. It would be for the best if they don't see your people."_

"_I'll do what I can,"_ the man answered immediately. _"Is it that bad, Raymond?"_

"_Bellatrix Lestrange might be after them,"_ Raymond said, and it seemed to be enough. The other man's face tightened.

"_Where is Sylvie?"_ he asked.

"_She had to take care of some things with her – friends,"_ Raymond asked, and his ex-brother in-law seemed to understand that he meant the Aurors.

"_Good."_

"_How are the children?"_

"_They miss you."_

There was a sudden sorrow in Raymond's eyes that disappeared in a second. He remembered the first war, when he had had almost no time to spare for his children. Now it was all happening again. Anthony and Elle would be children growing up in a war. _"Tell them that I said 'hello.'"_

"_I will,"_ Philippe promised. _"Bye, Raymond."_

"_Bye."_

Raymond stood up. "Good. One problem partly solved," he said absent-mindedly. "Now, if only Remus could show up – "

"Merlin, you really don't have any faith in Sirius," James said, "do you?"

"No, I don't."

"He'll do his best to protect them. Don't forget, it's not only your daughter with them there, it's his son, too."

"Sirius Black's best to protect his son is not good enough for me," Raymond stated icily. "Here, upstairs, is currently lying the proof of his ability to take care of his children."

James shot him a disbelieving look. "That isn't fair, Raymond."

"It's perfectly fair, James. Even if I wanted to believe that Black would act like a normal caring father, there is a boy here who will always remind me that he isn't that."

"Sirius cares!"

"Of course he does. But taking care of someone doesn't mean doing something brave and heroic and be done with it. It's a constant thing and I never saw Black constant in his caring for his family."

"This isn't fair!"

Raymond laughed darkly. "It isn't, really? I'll tell you what isn't fair, James. What isn't fair is the Death Eaters using the Cruciatus on a young pregnant woman and a small child while her husband was at _your_ home instead of his own. What isn't fair is that a little baby boy had to be cut out of his mother's body three months before the due date. What isn't fair is how no one wanted to nurse him because of who his father was – and because they thought he might infect them with the Cruciatus or something. What isn't fair is the way we all looked at him, trying to guess what was wrong with him. What isn't fair is the way you feel when you put the sparkling ornaments in front of a baby and he gives no reaction." Raymond was shouting now. "It's not fair that when Remus brought Cane to us, he was a little grown-up and not a child! And what isn't fair is that when one day I pushed him away with my arm, the sight of the raised hand made him hysterical! You don't know anything, James, so do me a favor and shut your mouth, until you bloody know what you are talking about!"

The other people in the room were trying to pretend that they had not heard anything. Raymond himself was feeling that he was throwing his anger at someone who was completely innocent, but he seemed to be unable to stop himself. His tension and the constant emptiness that had been filling his heart ever since Pamela's death and Arion's disappearance were erupting to the surface. He would have continued yelling if not for the small hand that touched his arm.

"Stop," Morgaine said. "Please, stop it."

The surprise of hearing her talking had lessened since they had first discovered it in the hospital, but it had not vanished completely. It was enough to make him stop yelling.

"I am sorry, Morgaine," he said, looking straight at her face. As always, he was careful not to look away, although each time he saw it, he wanted to scream. "I'm going to leave now; I have some things to attend to. I'll come back tomorrow morning, for Julian's treatment."

"Good."

"If your father shows up, let me know."

"I will."

Raymond nodded to the others, as calm as if nothing has happened, and left.

For a moment, no one said anything. Then, everyone seemed to remember that they had work to do. Soon, the only ones left in the kitchen were James and Harry.

"Well, that was nice," Harry finally said.

"Very nice," James confirmed.

"He was so rude, so – how is it possible that he and Remus are brothers?" The boy seemed not to comprehend this fact.

James shrugged. "Raymond had always been rushed."

"He doesn't like Sirius very much, huh?"

"No, he doesn't. He has his reasons, though. Long ago, Sirius did something incredibly stupid that almost led to a real tragedy."

"You mean the Whomping Willow thing?"

James gave him a quick look. "You know about that?" He sounded surprised.

"Remus told me. But it was a joke. Raymond couldn't – "

"Do you really think so?" James asked and sipped at his cold tea.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"A boy being killed and our best friend – Sirius' best friend – being the one killing him," James said flatly. "Do you really think it was a joke?"

"Well, Sirius certainly didn't mean to kill Snape. Did he?"

"Of course he didn't. But that doesn't change a damned thing," James said in the same flat voice. "In the morning, Snape still would have been dead. And Remus would have been the one who killed him. And he probably would have been killed himself – executed like a rabid _dog_. It was Sirius' rashness and stupidity, but it stopped being a joke the moment he opened his mouth and actually said the words that sent Snape there."

Harry felt like a stupid child who needed to be told everything word by word. It occurred to him that in the stories that he had heard, his father had always been portrayed like Sirius' twin – funny, daring, not giving a cent about rules and order. But James Potter, who was standing in front of him, was very different – in fact, he acted more like Professor Lupin than Sirius.

"And Raymond Lupin never forgave Sirius for that?" he asked.

"Never."

"I remember when I saw him for the first time. He entered the living room and said, "Black," politely, but his expression was stony. I thought he really resembled a stone."

"And I remember him young, the way he was at Hogwarts," James said. "He was very proud and handsome. There was not a girl at Hogwarts not to be enchanted by him. Even Emma – " His voice faded.

"I don't like him."

James gave him a long look. "You have the right to dislike him."

"But you don't approve?"

James started toying with his cup. "They are too much alike," he finally said. "Raymond and Sirius, they are. That's why they can't stand each other."

Harry moved to the chair that had been previously occupied by Hermione. He could hardly imagine two people who would be more different than Sirius Black and Raymond Lupin.

"They are," James said, as if he had read his son's thoughts. "It's just that Raymond had to grow up very quickly. He was never given anything. Unlike Sirius, who had always had everything, Raymond had to fight for anything he got. When he married Sylvie, they had to live with his parents and they were both working and studying. Their first child was born there and he started working two jobs. They had really hard times and yet, they succeeded. Sirius was allowed to grow up with his own speed."

Harry looked down at the carpet. "Is it true?" he asked. "That when the attack that harmed the unborn child happened, Sirius was at our place?"

"It's true," James sighed.

"And is it true that Sirius paid no attention to his family, that he spent all his time with us?"

James shot him a look. "Raymond didn't say that," he said. "Why did you say it?"

"Cane said that Sirius did," Harry explained.

"Did he, really?"

Harry shrugged. "He was outraged. Julian was in a rather bad state and Cane kind of exploded. Is it true?"

"No."

"Then why did he say it?"

"It's complicated."

"Does Sirius feel guilty because of Julian?"

"Knowing that you've damaged your own child forever is the worst thing that could happen to anyone."

"But why, if Sirius wasn't the one to blame?"

"For Merlin's sake, boy, you are like a bloody tank!"

"I have to be like a bloody tank to make you talk. Come on, Dad, you know what's going on and Sirius knows, too. So does Remus. So do Cane and Raymond. I think it's time to fill me in, too."

James shook his head, irritated. "All right. Ask."

–––––––––––––––––––––––

_**The next day…**_

"So, that's where you live?" Sirius was impressed. The house looked like a royal palace.

"Yes, we've lived here all our lives," Cissy said, and Noel started searching for his key.

Before he could find it, the front door opened and an old man stood in front of them. "You didn't need to, Messier Noel," he said officially. "Answering the door is my duty."

Noel smiled at him. "I just didn't want to bother you, Hubert."

"Do you really think I've slept a night since you and your sister ran away, Messier Noel?" the old man asked, the reproach in his voice clearly hinting that good butlers did not act this way.

Noel bowed his head in shame. "We didn't run away, Noel," he said. "Never mind that, may we enter?"

Hubert seemed to realize that he was standing in the doorway and quickly stepped aside, blushing with embarrassment. _What lack of manners!_ Madame Lerois would be right to dismiss him without explanations.

"You know our classmates, Cane Black and Arielle Lupin," Cissy said calmly, as if she had not noticed the butler's embarrassment at all. "And this is Sirius Black, Cane's father."

"Nice to see you again, Hubert," Arielle said politely. The two men followed her example and Hubert seemed to have restored from his shame.

"What happened here during our absence, Hubert?" Noel asked, looking around. "The house seems quite restored."

"Yes, some of your friends came here and repaired it," the butler answered. "Your brother was discharged from the hospital earlier today. Our guests assured us that they had made the house as much protected as possible, so your brother brought Mademoiselle Lilith here."

Noel and Cissy looked immensely relieved. "Good," she said. "And what about our parents?"

"I'm afraid they are still there, Mademoiselle Cissy."

She sighed almost inaudibly. "Well, come on. Sirius, I do not think you have met my younger brother or my sister."

"Oh, I've met him," Sirius mumbled, and she gave him a surprised look while leading them down the marble corridor.

Met him or not, if Sirius had not known in advance that it was Andre Lerois here, he would have never recognized him. The boy was yellow-faced, with sunken eyes and scars on his face. He looked exhausted and full of apathy, leaning in his armchair with a book in his hand.

Unlike him, the little girl, who was playing in the corner, looked full of life. She was feeding her doll with real vegetables that disappeared as soon as they touched the doll's lips. There was no doubt, Lilith Lerois was a witch. She looked three or four years old, with heart-shaped face, a snub nose and long blond hair. Sirius briefly wondered why she was blond, given that both her parents were dark-haired. Maybe there was blond somewhere in Lerois' genes, because Sirius sure as hell knew that there was none in the Blacks'.

"Hello," Andre said. "Where were you? Hello, Arielle. Cane."

He looked expectantly at Sirius and Noel introduced them to each other. "Sirius Black. Andre Lerois."

"Oh, we already know each other," Sirius said.

"Do we?" Andre asked, confused. "You're Julian's father, right?"

"Yes," Sirius confirmed, "I am."

"I am sure we never – "

"Oh, we've met," Sirius assured him. "You just didn't know it was me."

He transformed and Andre recognized him immediately. "Padfoot!"

The black dog winked at him and was just about to change back when the little girl came running towards them and yelled, "A puppy!"

So now he had to lick her hands, huff in her ear, ruffle her hair, wave his tail, and keep her happy. Thank Merlin that he had a lot of practice from Cane's childhood. Yet, he could not help but feel insulted, when he heard Cissy muttering, "How good it is for her to have a friend her own mental age." That earned her a low bark, but she seemed unimpressed. Finally, he resumed his usual form and grinned at Andre. "See?"

The boy, who had just been filled in about the latest events, including the news about the girl he secretly fancied being hurt and disfigured, did not even smile. "I suppose I had to guess that something was wrong," he said. "Padfoot was the smartest dog I've ever seen."

"Thank you."

"So, what are you doing here?"

They had not told him about the Horcruxes and did not intend to do it at all. "We have a job here," Noel said vaguely.

"What is it?"

Noel gave no answer.

Lilith cut the silence by looking at Arielle and pulling her hair to check whether it was real or not. Arielle sat patiently in her armchair and waited for the final judgment.

"You aren't ugly," Lilith proclaimed at last.

"Thank you. You aren't ugly, too," Arielle smiled.

"Me? _Ugly_?" The little girl looked insulted. "I am a Great Beauty, just like Maman."

Arielle raised an eyebrow and started examining Lilith the same way she had examined her.

Her silence seemed to make Lilith anxious, because she started squirming from where she stood, in front of Arielle's armchair. "If I am not a Great Beauty, then one day, I'll be one. Look!"

Her blond hair turned black, the pudgy nose elongated into a Roman one, and her facial features changed slightly. She looked like a mini-Selena.

"Look here," Cane said, and when she looked at him, he changed his face to match hers.

Arielle completely forgotten, Lilith jumped onto Cane's lap and the two of them started playing "Who Can Make the Funniest Face." Lilith won by making her skin pink and her hair white with green dots. She had never met another Metamorphmagus, so she was fascinated by Cane and paid no attention to anyone else. They were making faces and she was yelling, "Look at me, Cissy! Look at me!"

Sirius looked at them and shook his head. "I've always suspected that Cane never grew up," he said. "Cissy, I think I know the answer, but I'll ask you nonetheless. Why Lilith, for Merlin's sake? Who in their right mind would name their child _Lilith_?"

"Because she cheated us," the girl explained.

"She did?"

"She was supposed to be a boy," Cissy said. "The doctors saw a boy on the screen. We had bought everything blue and then she came along! Dad said that it would be good if we could find her a name that reflected her false nature."

Arielle laughed. "I remember how happy you were when the baby turned out to be a girl," she said. "You were so delighted to have a sister, instead of a _third_ brother."

Cissy smiled. "True. However, Mum was never too fond of Eve – she found her too boring. The wild Lilith who left Paradise to escape from man's domination was more her kind of girl."

Sirius shook his head. The mother who Cissy was describing was so different from the sister he once knew that he could hardly believe it.

"Where did Noel go?" he asked.

Cissy looked meaningfully at Andre and Sirius decided to let the matter to rest. Obviously, his newfound nephew was looking through his parents' things for clues to which bank they should go. A Swiss bank was a definition that included too many objects.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_**A day later…**_

"And so, I told him that he was a coward, and he went very pale, and – and he left," Harry finished, and looked defiantly at his father. "Do you think I went too far?"

"Oh yes, I do," James answered without hesitation.

"I just wanted – "

"Harry," James interrupted him, "what you did was cruel, but I never said it was wrong."

"It wasn't?" Harry asked, confused.

"If I was here, Remus would have had it worse, I assure you. I would have beaten the right way of action into his thick skull, personally."

Ron laughed, and even Hermione smiled a little through her tears at the image of James Potter beating something into Remus Lupin's skull with his bare arms. Harry sighed with relief. "I wondered what you would have done in my place," he said.

"Well, now you know it."

"What if he never comes back?"

'What, with Morgaine and Julian here?" James asked. "Besides, we haven't finished my education yet."

During the last month, James and Remus had worked hard to fill the gaps in James' magical skills that were the result of the development of the different branches of magic during the years of his absence from the magical world.

"Do you really think that the baby would be a werewolf?" Harry asked.

"It's possible," James said, "but as long as I know, werewolves are generally made so, not born this way. There are some exceptions, of course, but let's hope that Remus and Tonks' baby won't be among them."

Ron frowned. "But why is he so afraid, if this is not such a common event? I mean, he already has Morgaine, and she's not a werewolf."

Hermione's head turned towards Ron – no, it turned even _more_ towards Ron, and James said, "I think Hermione could explain that to you." _Merlin, they are so much like how Sirius and Angela were,_ he thought.

"He had Morgaine with his first wife," Hermione told the boys. "Fleur's aunt. She was part-Veela, and that makes Morgaine something that is not exactly human. She couldn't be a werewolf, because only humans can be infected by lycanthropy."

"Oh," was Harry's intelligent reply. James left Hermione to voice her indignation of her two friends – "It is a third year theory!" – and went to see how Julian was doing.

The boy was still recovering after his daily bone treatment. His face looked like wax, his arms were sprawled completely immobile on the bed, and his dead eyes were surrounded by deep dark circles and even wrinkles of pain. He had removed his covering, as if his skin could not bear the touch of the cloth.

"Hello," James said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hi."

"How are you today?"

"Fine," Julian answered, and even managed a smile. "Did you get Linda back to her home safely?"

"Yes, I did."

"I'm glad. I'll miss her, though. She was very nice."

"Oh, I think that we are going to see her again soon," James said, and Julian turned his eyes in his voice direction, missing James only by an inch.

"Are you smiling?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yes," James grinned. "The matter is that Linda's daughter, my goddaughter, is a witch."

Julian looked intrigued. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," James confirmed, "I am. She'll receive her Hogwarts letter in four days, on her eleventh birthday. They'll be so surprised."

Julian reached clumsily for the bottle of water that was sitting on his nightstand, and James helped him drink. "You mean you haven't told Linda?"

"Of course I haven't. What fun would that be?" asked James innocently, and Julian laughed.

"Did my father call here?" he asked, suddenly becoming serious, and James shook his head, before realizing that Julian could not see him.

"No." He looked at him closely. There could be no doubt about it, the boy's face had fallen at hearing that one word. "You've heard them."

"It was hard not to – they were yelling so loudly – " He sighed. "When are Harry, Ron, and Hermione leaving?"

"Soon," James answered. "Very soon."

"I thought they would." Julian's mouth tightened. "Everyone is doing something – except for me. I'm just lying here and lounging."

James could not stop himself – he burst out laughing. "Oh, Merlin's beard, boy, you have a peculiar way of choosing your words," he said when he finally stopped laughing. "You do. What do you think you could do if you stood up right now? You would probably not make it to the door."

Julian did not laugh. "Do you think the baby will be a werewolf?" he asked.

"No. Why, do you?"

"No, but it feels better hearing it from someone else. If God chooses to give Dad a _third_ damaged child to look after, I'll know for sure that he has a cruel sense of humor." He smiled sadly. "But then, he already has it, otherwise he wouldn't have let all my parents' attempts for another child end the way they did."

James was not sure what to say. He had already heard about Elise's many unsuccessful pregnancies. Suddenly, Remus' fears looked more reasonable.

Julian turned the conversation back to the previous topic. "So, Harry is leaving. Hunting Horcruxes, fighting the Snake; Merlin, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now. Or ever, for that matter. Poor guy, he's never fully felt the normal joys – to fight with his siblings for the last piece of cake, to play with the dog, to insist how clean his room is – all those real pleasures of life. At least he's lucky that he has Ron and Hermione."

The genuine pity that Julian felt left James puzzled. Julian was a boy whose life was crushed by his illness, who was unable to see anything, who had been often humiliated because of his health and the fact that his father was supposed to be a mad murderer, who was suffering a torture right now, and yet, he could talk like this?

Julian nodded assent. "I know what you are thinking. But I have everything that makes life worth living. I might be damaged in more than one way, but I have it. I have people who would die for me or even kill for me. I attend one of the most prestigious magical schools in the world, and I have my friends. I regularly experience very cruel physical pain, but when you have pain, you can appreciate the great pleasure when the pain has stopped. And I have the chance of being raised in a real family. Many children who have my problems are left in specialized institutions. I am a lucky dog, really."

James was staring at him, open-mouthed. Julian seemed to feel his reaction, because he smiled and said, "It's not that surprising, you know. I've been like this all my life – in fact, this _is_ my life. It's not as if I had lost something that I know about. I don't know another way of living. I've never seen the world, so I don't miss it. I am happy with what I have – the alternative is to go and throw myself under a bridge!" He laughed. "Still nothing from Cane and the others?" he suddenly asked.

"Nothing," James said. "Give them time."

"As I see it, we don't _have_ any time," Julian said. "Okay, do you mind doing me a favor? Help me get out of these pajamas; I'm too hot."

"Oh. Of course."

James helped him take off the pajamas, fully knowing that the problem was not the heat – it was the tenderness of the skin that was giving Julian trouble.

"Thank you," the boy said. His eyes closed and began dozing off.

_Remus did a great job with him,_ James thought as he was leaving the room.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

_**Early the next morning…**_

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Arielle said, shaking Sirius. "We found the bank."

"Okay. Thanks," he said without moving.

"Get up. We have a Horcrux to get."

"Can't we get it later?" Sirius asked, rolling to shield his face from the light. "I wanna sleep."

Arielle's voice raised an octave. "Hey, Cane – here, boy! Here, boy! Come in, Cane. Wake him up. Cane!"

A big mass landed on Sirius' bed. "Hey, stop it!" he yelled, raising his arm protectively because a long tongue was rooting in his ear and two black paws were dancing on his face. "Stop it! Come on! Stop!"

But Cane – in his wolf form – was unstoppable, so Sirius jerked upright, sending Cane flying on the floor. Arielle looked at them and laughed. A moment later, Cane launched himself onto Sirius' bed again, pushed him down onto his back, and started licking his chin and neck. Sirius laughed and ruffled his fur. The next moment, he transformed too and the two black canines leaped onto the floor, mock-fighting and growling.

The sounds from the room dragged Noel and Cissy there in less than two minutes.

"What's going on here?" the girl gasped.

"Can't you see? There's a fight going on here," Arielle answered very seriously. "I'll stake a Galleon that Cane is going to win!" she cried.

The fight went on and on with everyone in the room laughing enjoying the brief rest from the worry they were all living in. The dog and the wolf pushed each other, nipped at each other, chased each other, growling and yelping the entire time. Finally, Padfoot fell on the floor, too exhausted to do anything else. Cane, who was still on his paws, was cheered as the victor just before he collapsed across Padfoot. For a couple of minutes, they stayed like that, breathing heavily, before changing back almost in the same second.

"Merlin, get off me!" Sirius grumbled, and tried to push Cane aside.

Cane rolled aside and stopped right in front of Cissy's legs. "Is there something for breakfast?" he asked. "I am famished. I can't commit a robbery while I am famished."

"It won't be a robbery!" Noel said sharply. "We are just taking something that my mother wanted us to." He was too snappy and he knew it, but the thought that for the two days that they had spent in Paris he had not visited his parents in the hospital because they couldn't risk being tracked right now had made him quite nervous.

Cane raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a warrant of authority?"

"No," Noel answered reluctantly.

"So we'll have to Confound the official and make an illegal entry into your mother's vault. And what is that called?"

"A robbery," Noel admitted.

"See? So, where's breakfast?"

A few minutes before the opening of the bank in Zurich they were all there, waiting. A nice man, middle-aged, unlocked the door. "Please, come in. I hope you haven't been waiting for long."

"No, not at all," said Cissy as they all entered the bank.

"What can I do for you?"

_Help us save the world,_ Sirius thought, while Cissy was saying, "My mother has a safety vault here. She asked us to come and take out its contents."

"Is there a cipher?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind telling me what it is?"

"B2A276598," she said, and they all silently prayed that it was really the bank that they were searching for. Yes, Noel had found a note in Jean Paul Lerois' document that said that there were jewels in this vault, but yet…. And even if this was the real vault, it was probably protected by Selena Lerois' strongest spells and they would have to find a way to defuse them.

The man left them alone.

"This is the bank," Cissy said, and for the first time since Sirius had met her, she did not even try to hide the panic in her voice. "This must be it – "

The man came back, and they could not read the look on his face.

"This vault, you said it was in your mother's name?"

"Yes, Selena Lerois," she said, trying to hide her trepidation.

He gave her a long look. "The safety vault is in two names."

_What the hell is going on? Is it possible that this is just one of my parents' vaults? Where is the real one, then?_

"What – " Noel barely articulated the words, "what is the other name?"

"Sirius Black."

And they did not need to bother Confounding him anymore. They just had to find a way to get past Selena's defensive spells. Judging by the way his sister had hired the safety vault, though, Sirius was pretty sure that he knew what the first one would be.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	25. In the Vault

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_Thanks for your reviews, both old and new ones._

Chapter 25

_Down…down…down…_

The journey with the elevator seemed to have no end. Cissy shuddered and wrapped her white blouse tighter around herself. The fear that she fought so bravely to suppress was finally starting to overcome her. Soon, she would see the most sinister magic known to wizardkind. A piece of soul. A result of murder.

Noel reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, asking silently, "_Are you okay_?"

She smiled up at him and moved her thumb to return the squeeze. "_Yes, I am_."

Finally, the elevator stopped. The door opened and the clerk led them through a labyrinth of corridors until he stopped in front of a big door, painted in black. "Here we are," he said. "Here is the key. Do you want me to unlock the door for you?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, thank you. I think we'll manage on our own."

The clerk nodded. "I'll leave you, then."

A moment later, they were alone. Sirius waited until he was sure that the clerk was far away before saying in a very controlled voice, "Now, listen. If Selena had rented the vault in both our names, that means that she expected for me to be the one entering. The protective spells must be cast in a way that would make me the candidate that they would inflict the least harm on, so I think that you should stay away and enter only _after_ I have tested the level of defense and declared that it is safe for you to come in. You should never enter the vault further than I have. Do you understand?"

Cane opened his mouth, but Sirius felt the forthcoming objection, so he said, "And no arguing about that. Don't forget, I am the owner of the vault and I am the man with the biggest chances to make it in unharmed."

Cane hesitated, but Arielle touched his arm and said, "We're losing time, Cane. Every minute is precious right now. Sirius is right. Let him do this."

Cane sighed. "You're right, my dear, as always." Then, he looked at Sirius. "Be careful!" he told him angrily.

Sirius grinned. "But of course, Master."

And he unlocked the door.

Only to face another door.

This one without a lock.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Cissy asked. "How are we supposed to get in? This door is like a rock."

_A rock._ Cane shuddered and realized what that meant the same moment that Sirius did. "Oh, it can't be," Sirius whispered. "So simple. A work of genius."

"What's going on here?" Noel demanded. Sirius smiled.

"Selena has used Voldemort's own tricks against him," he said. "With some improvements. Oh, she's a clever woman, your mother. Very clever."

"What do you mean?"

"A blood tax," Cane said, his thoughts leading him back to the cave where Regulus Black had once taken him. _The sea, the rock, the red stream flowing from Regulus' cut._ "We should pay the door a tax to let us in."

"Not _we_," Sirius said. "_I_'m the one who should do this. In fact, I think that I am the one who could – ahem, _convince_ the door best."

"_Convince_ it?" Cissy frowned.

"I think it's keyed to respond to the Blacks alone," Sirius explained. "That was what Selena hinted at by making me a co-owner of the vault. No one who isn't a Black can open this door."

Noel laughed darkly. "That means that Bellatrix Lestrange would lose a bit of her blood in front of this door, huh?"

"Or Cissy," Sirius nodded, "or her boy."

Noel looked at him sharply, but after a moment, his face relaxed. "Ah, you mean Mrs. Malfoy," he said. "For a moment I thought that you meant _Cissy_ – my Cissy."

Sirius smiled darkly, examining the door closely. "I think it's a bit more complicated than this. Cane, come here."

Cane stepped aside and Sirius handed him the knife that he had been carrying in his bag. "I have a theory," he said. "Let's see whether I am right. Go on, do it. Give it a few drops."

Cane silently cut his arm and pressed it to the door. For a moment, there were the faint contours of an arch shining in front of them, but it disappeared immediately, leaving Cane frowning. "Where did it go?" he asked. "When Regulus gave the blood tax, the rock opened immediately."

Sirius nodded, as if he had found his theory confirmed. "Oh, Selena," he said. "Where did you learn to be this smart? That's a very complicated piece of magic."

"What is?" Noel asked.

"Your mother has altered the blood charm to react to _her own_ blood," Sirius explained. "That means that the only Blacks who could enter this vault relatively unharmed would be the ones _directly_ related to her – you two, your siblings, and me. Cane shares this blood, but if he wants to make the entrance appear, he'll have to lose much more blood than the rest of us." He smiled. "The same goes for Bella and Narcissa, of course. Entering this vault would leave them almost half-dead."

"Knowing my mother, it would probably leave them almost-_dead_," Cissy muttered.

"I wish," Sirius muttered.

"It isn't the time for joking!" Cissy said angrily.

"I wasn't joking," Sirius replied. "Any way that could rid the world of Bella would be nice. Now, step aside, all of you."

He took the knife from Cane and cut his arm. The arch appeared the very moment his blood trickled on the door and remained there, stable and shining.

"That was too easy," he said, frowning when the part of the door that was contoured by the arch just disappeared, leaving an empty room in front of them. "Now," he turned to the others, "don't try to enter until I say that you can."

He made a step towards the entrance, then another one…

… And he suddenly found himself in his own bed in his bedroom – not the one he used at Grimmauld Place, but the one he and Angela had shared in their flat. _What's going on?_ He stood up and stretched, feeling the healthy pull of muscles. Naked, and easy with it, he sniffed the pillow next to him and the fragrance of roses filled his nostrils. He slid out of bed and without bothering to put something on, went to the living room.

She was there, curled on the sofa with a book in her hand – or at least, curled the best she could with that big stomach of hers. There was a bar of chocolate on the table next to her and he tried to move as noiselessly as he could to steal it before she could notice. He reached for it – and his fingers caught the nothingness.

"The last chocolate," Angela said in a sad voice from behind her book. "You were going to deprive your unborn baby from the last chocolate left in this house. To punish you, I'm going to eat it," she said as she closed the book and grinned at him, biting at the dark bar. Sirius kissed her, hoping to catch the chocolate taste on her lips.

And it burst on his tongue – not only the chocolate, but everything – the fragrance of roses, the smell of the grass in the Forbidden Forest, the pine scent coming from the bath-tub in their flat. Since he got out of Azkaban, Sirius had wondered what Amortentia, the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind, smelled to him like. He had tried to remember what attracted him most, but to no avail.

Now, he knew.

"Watch it. My husband could wake up any minute."

"Let's risk it."

She laughed and returned the kiss. Sirius pressed a hand to her stomach. "Not moving much, is she?"

"_He_ doesn't have enough space. The childbirth could start any minute now," Angela said, while he was sitting next to her. "Sirius, why do you always refer to him as 'her'? It could be a boy, you know."

"It couldn't," Sirius answered confidently, "it will be a daughter, and she'll be as pretty as her mother."

Angela looked at herself and pulled a face. "Yes, fat and bloated, you mean."

"My children's mother is the most beautiful fat lady in the world," Sirius said, and she tried to flip him, but the move was too clumsy. They both burst out laughing and he leaned over to kiss her again.

"Hey, Sirius, I've got great news!" James Potter's head had just appeared in the fireplace, "I talked to Moony and he looked almost like he had forgiven – " He fell silent, when he saw the kissing couple. "All right, all right, I'm going. Going! Gone!"

And his head disappeared.

Cane's appeared in the doorway. "Mummy, where is Snuffles?" he asked. "We can wash together."

Sirius laughed and stood up, ready to transform, and then something made him stop. "It's not real."

"_It could be."_

_Who said that?_ Sirius looked around, ready to fight the unknown enemy, but all he saw was his pregnant wife, his naughty son, his happy and normal home. There was something like an arch on the wall, just above Angela's head, but it was so dim and unclear.

_That's Selena spell,_ Sirius realized. _It's trying to prevent me from entering – it's trying to make me stop _wanting_ to enter._ How brilliant it was – and how cruel. "It's not real."

"_It could be,"_ the unknown voice said in his head.

"But it isn't."

"_Isn't it?" _Sirius suddenly had the feeling that the voice was smiling. _"I thought you loved them. Don't you?"_

"I do."

"_Don't they love you?"_

Sirius swallowed hard. "They do."

"_Then why do you think that this is not real? You can have it all. The woman, the children, the home. You had them once. Why not again?"_

"At what price?"

"_So little," _the voice purred_. "So very little. You only have to stay within this dream. Within all of this."_

Sirius suddenly had the feeling that there was a hand, pointing at the sofa, at the red table, at the high Chinese vase that he and Angela had bought with such enthusiasm, pointing at – he somehow knew it for sure – pointing at Angela and Cane next to her.

He took a shuddering breath. "There are no Horcruxes in this dream." The arch had become even more vague and unclear.

"_Horcruxes? What is that? Why would you need Horcruxes in your dream?"_

"I don't want a dream. I want my life. I won't trade my life for your illusions."

And he crossed the room in two steps, terrified that if he stood without moving even a second longer, he would never be able to keep going. He reached for the faint contours of the arch and pushed the wall with all his might.

And then everything disappeared, and Sirius was standing inside the vault, facing the other four, who were looking at him, pale and shaken.

"Merlin, Sirius, are you all right?" Cane asked urgently. "Say something!"

"Selena is a cruel woman."

The others sighed with relief. "That bad, huh?" Cane asked.

"You have no idea," Sirius answered, sure that the scene in his flat had been for his eyes only – it was his ordeal, not theirs. "Look, if you intend to come in here, be ready for the greatest probation in all your lives."

They looked at each other. "We're coming," Arielle declared.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"It isn't working, Cane."

He looked at the red-head, nestled against his chest. Arielle stood up. "I'm sorry, Cane. I wanted this to work. I really did. But it just won't."

"Don't you love me?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Honestly, no. I thought I did. In fact, I do, it's just that – " She spread her arms helplessly. "I am not sure I can love you as much as you love me, Cane, that's all. In the beginning, it was a childhood crush, then it became something exciting, because it was forbidden, and now, when it's real – " She shrugged. "I just don't know."

"What do you want, Arielle? Really?"

"I wish I knew," she whispered. He put his arms around her and started stroking the red hair. His glance was attracted by the wall, where suddenly an arch appeared. _That wasn't there a moment ago, was it?_

"What happened to us, Cane?" Arielle asked dejectedly. "We were so in love once."

"I don't know," he answered. "I really don't know."

"Do you want us to try again?"

"I do," he replied without hesitation.

Arielle looked at him and smiled. He felt the familiar chains bonding him to her – the tenderness of her smile, the smell of her hair, and the unnamed quality that only she, of all women, possessed for him – the force that held his heart like a physical hand. A warm and tender hand, but irresistibly strong. He wanted to stay like that forever, just looking at her smile.

And then he pushed her aside and crossed the room.

"Cane?" Arielle said confusedly. "What's wrong?"

"I – I have to go."

"Go? Now?"

"I have to."

"And leave me alone again? We've barely seen each other in months."

The arch was still there, shining brightly. "I'm sorry."

"Listen, Cane, if you leave now, you might as well never come back."

The pain crushing his chest was stronger than anything he had ever felt in his life. Arielle was serious, he somehow knew that. If he left, she wouldn't take him back.

He threw himself through the arch before the thought could cause him to hesitate.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"It can't be nothing."

He gave her a tired look. "I lost another job."

There was no need to tell her the reason. Arielle already knew that it was because of her. No one wanted to hire a man married to a werewolf.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be." His voice was as gentle as ever, and yet, she knew that he was blaming her. Oh, he loved her, she did not doubt that, but his life had become infinitely worse since he had married her. Her eyes went to the arch on the wall. She somehow knew that behind that door, she would find the truth about Cane's feelings for her. The question was…did she want to know?

"Arielle, what are you doing?"

"I must pass through this door."

He looked at her, confused. "The door? Honey, it's just the wall, there is no door."

"There is one."

"Okay, there is," he agreed. "And what is there, behind the door that doesn't exist?"

"There lies the truth."

"The truth? " He laughed. "And you wanted to know what the truth is? Be careful what you wish for, my dear. Elise often said that people long for the truth, but they usually don't like the taste once they've tried it."

She licked her lips worriedly. "I have to know."

"Do you, really?"

_No!_ a little voice somewhere in the back of her head screamed. _I'm better off not knowing. What would I do, if I find out that you hate me?_

The last few steps were the most difficult ones. She reached the arch and took a deep breath. "I have to."

And then, she made the final steps.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Noel!"

Horrified, Cissy elbowed the crowd out of the way and knelt next to her brother, frantically wiping the blood off his face. _It was not the Killing Curse,_ she tried to reassure herself, _so he isn't going to – _

His eyes slowly opened. Both twins had eyes that changed their colour from blue to grey. Today, Noel's were blue eyes just like her own, impressively fair among so many dark eyes, and their azure was slowly fading like a torn flower. Noel tried to smile. "I am okay," he whispered. "I'm fine."

But the blood that was trickling from his mouth and down his chin and neck told her the opposite_. It's not real,_ she thought desperately, and yet, her twin dying in front of her was something very real. _He can't die while I live. We are meant to die together, just like we entered the world together._

A trembling hand touched hers. "Don't cry. Cissy, don't cry – "

"I'm not," she said, denying the wetness on her cheeks.

"I'm not – going to leave – at all, Cissy. You – may think that I'm – gone, but – I'll come – back – from – time to time – to keep an eye on you."

She tried not to sob and failed.

"Come on, Mademoiselle Lerois," said a voice next to her. "Now, you're our best chance to get the Horcrux before the Death Eaters do."

She shot the man a disbelieving look. "My brother is _dying_, and you want me to leave him now?"

"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle Lerois." There was no pity in his voice. "But we have to do it now. They know where the Horcrux is, and we can't let Bellatrix Lestrange get it. Come on, all you have to do is walk through the door."

"The door? What door?" Cissy looked around and saw the arch that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "I'm not going."

"You – have to." It was Noel's voice, faint, fading. "What did my – death serve as – if you give up – now?"

Cissy was crying in full force now. "I'm not leaving you."

"You have to."

He was right and she knew it. Yet, even knowing that all this was not really happening, it was the hardest thing she had ever done, standing up and making a step to the arch. Halfway in it, she looked back and saw her twin taking his agonizing last breaths_. It's not real, it's not,_ she thought desperately and fought the impulse to run to his side. "It's not real!" she cried and stepped through the arch.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"So, what do we have here?" the soft voice asked, and the hooded figures surrounding snickered.

Noel refused to let his fear creep to the surface. "There is nothing of yours here," he said. "It's only me here."

The red snake eyes bore into his blue ones. "And aren't you mine?"

"The hell I am."

Soft laughter. "So, you have a backbone, my brave boy."

"I am no one's brave boy, least of all yours."

A low murmur ran through the Death Eaters. "You have no respect for the purity of your blood, do you, boy?"

Noel refused to answer.

"You are my captive. Do you know what that means?"

Noel shrugged and his blond hair caught the moonlight. "What can you do to me? Even you can't kill me more than once."

Lord Voldemort laughed. "Kill you? No, no, you've got it all wrong, boy. I certainly don't want you dead. I want you on my side."

"Well, I want to be Merlin, but somehow, I can't see that happening."

"Do you think you're very clever, boy?"

_No, I am just desperate,_ Noel thought.

"Would you like to beg for mercy?"

"You'll never hear me beg for mercy."

The snake at Voldemort's side gave a soft hiss, her eyes red and vibrant, just like her master's. "I can offer you more than the fools who try to stop me could ever dream of."

"I don't want your gifts."

"Really? You're not interested in developing your skills to a proper position?"

"I can find a proper position all by myself, thank you very much."

Voldemort's white hand made a circular movement at the ground surrounding them and the white stately house far behind them. "All of this belongs to you – the grounds, Malfoy Manor, everything. You could have everything your mother robbed you of when she made her stupid flight from her family and her future husband."

Noel almost laughed. "A Death Eater's estate? I think not. When will you understand that I am not interested in joining you or accepting anything from you?"

"Anything?'

"Anything."

"Not even the fortune that truly belongs to you?"

"No."

"Not even the girl? The werewolf?"

Noel stopped dead. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to prevent his voice from shaking.

"I asked whether you want her or not."

Every fiber in Noel's body screamed that he should not answer, but his mouth seemed to have its own brain. "Yes. Yes, I want the girl. The werewolf."

Voldemort laughed quietly. "I knew that it would be her that could win you over to me. You want her, but she doesn't want you, am I right? She prefers the other guy, the one who keeps changing faces."

Noel said nothing.

"I can give her to you."

"How? A love potion? The Imperius Curse?"

Voldemort shrugged. "Does it matter? She'll be yours and that's all you want, isn't it?"

_Yes, it is!_ Noel had liked Arielle ever since he was fifteen. But she had always liked Cane. Everyone liked Cane.

"Yes, it is."

A shining arch appeared behind the Dark Lord's back. He did not notice it, and Noel paid it no attention. All that mattered was the fact that he would now have his dream fulfilled.

And then the snake gave a long hiss, and Noel snapped out of his trance. _What am I doing? It's not real and even if it were, do I want to join Voldemort? Do I want love this way?_

Voldemort raised his wand and Arielle's face filled the night. Noel recognized it immediately – that was just the way she had looked only this morning, after leaving the room she had shared with Cane. Her eyes were dim, her lips swollen with kisses, pure delight written all over her face. He knew what that expression meant, when placed on a woman's face, that almost painful happiness. To think that she could look at _him_ this way….

And he desperately jumped through the arch, before the temptation to stay could become too great to handle.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"So, here we all are," Sirius said after Noel's breathing had become regular again. "Oh, she's smart, your mother, I'll give her that."

Arielle looked around. "Well, that was quite horrifying. What happens next?"

Sirius' eyes were thoughtful. "I can't see any locket," he said. "Can you?"

Four variations of 'no' filled the empty vault. Sirius sighed. "That means that we should be very careful," he said as he made a step forward. "There must be some undercurrent dangers – damn it!" he yelled, when it turned out that he was _literally_ right. He was sinking into water coming out of nowhere. With a stream of curses, he started swimming to keep himself above the surface. "Anyone here who can't swim?"

There was no need to ask – the others were already swimming. Cissy's blond hair and Arielle's red locks were floating like clouds on the surface.

"What the hell is this?" Noel roared.

"Bella is afraid of water," Sirius shouted in response, "that's her only weak spot. When we were children, I pushed her once into the – never mind that, Bella would never enter deep water. She can't swim."

"Well, what does that mean?" Arielle wondered. "Besides the fact that we obviously can't make the water vanish."

"That means that the locket must be somewhere on the bottom," Cane explained and started diving.

After ten minutes of plunging, Noel shouted, "I found it!"

The others joined him and he pointed at the golden gleam coming from the water below.

"I'll do it," Sirius said, and dived. The golden glimmer became stronger and somehow started rotating. The Animagus almost cursed with his mouth in the water when he realized that the damned sinister thing was not only enveloped with the attracting heat of a Familiarity Charm, but it was also placed in the center of an iron flower whose petals were made with sharp iron knives. They looked menacing enough to cut his arm off if he tried to push his way between the circles drawn by their rotating. He came to the surface and explained the new obstacle to his young companions. Cane plunged to see it for himself and returned rather glum-faced. "Your mother is too smart for her own good," he told the twins. "There's nothing to do but go about this the Muggle way – calculate the rotating speed and risk losing your hand."

"I'll take a look," Arielle said. "You know I've always had the knack for calculating the speed of things."

She dived deeply, then emerged to the surface, then dived again, calculating the speed of rotation and her own speed.

"Don't do it!" Sirius bellowed. "The Familiarity Charm will kill you on the spot!" _Or at least keep her hand stuck long enough for it to be cut off._ Neither perspective seemed too nice.

But it was too late. Arielle's hand crossed the water, pushed its way between the iron petals and grabbed the golden locket. A moment later, the red-head came up, out of breath but victorious, holding the Horcrux tightly in her hand.

They all headed for the door, wondering what they should do to drain Selena's lake. She couldn't have planned to flood the whole bank, could she?

The moment they left more than half of the room behind them, the water disappeared and they sighed with relief. Sirius took his wand out and dried them all. Cane carefully wrapped the Horcrux in a shawl, so no one would have to touch it with their bare hands. Cissy fished inside her handbag and pulled out a handkerchief which she used to wipe the running remnants of her make-up off her face. "And they said it was waterproof," she muttered. "A bunch of cheaters. From now on, I will rely only on good old Dior."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Three days later…_

"Thank Merlin you're safe!" James exclaimed, opening the door of Grimmauld Place. _Sirius, Cane, one red-head, and two blondes, all in one piece._ "I was starting to worry. Do you have it?"

Sirius pointed at the bag in his hand. "Good," James said. "Sirius, here is – "

"What is this place?" Noel asked, looking curiously around. "I thought it was the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but it looks like a Dark Arts Museum."

"This is the place where your mother and I were born," Sirius explained.

"A cozy little place," Cane added. "You can make yourself at home here. The only person who would probably cause problems – "

_Thump!_ Cissy had tripped on the disgusting troll's leg umbrella stand, and it fell on the ground with a terrible noise.

"SHAME OF MY FLESH! ABOMINATIONS WHO HAVE COME HERE TO DEFILE THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS! BRINGING WEREWOLVES HERE, PRODUCING MUTANTS, CONSORTING WITH MUGGLES, OF ALL THINGS, AND THEY DARE TO COME BACK TO THE HOUSE THEY FLED FROM!"

" – is the grandmother the three of us share," Cane continued calmly, and Cissy gasped.

"This – Cane, you can't mean that this thing is – ?"

Sirius and James hurried to close the curtains and with Cane and Noel's help, they soon managed to cover the painting. The group headed for the kitchen. The twins were looking around with obvious disgust.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Noel?"

"Please, tell me that Mum was adopted."

"I'm sorry."

"Your mother wasn't adopted," James said, "but she's here. Both your parents are."

"What?" Cissy asked excitedly. "They have already been discharged from St. Lazarre?"

"Um, not exactly. For all I know, she discharged both herself and your father on her own. They arrived here yesterday." His voice indicated that he and Selena got along no better than they had in their Hogwarts' days.

Selena Lerois looked at least ten years older than she actually was, pale and very tired. Her husband left the same impression, but they were obviously immensely relieved to see their children alive and healthy. "I was so worried," Selena exclaimed. "Were the spells still active?"

"Oh, yes!" Noel answered.

"Where is our Golden Trio?" Sirius asked James.

"They left – after they let Yaxley in against their will."

"What?"

"It's a long story," James sighed. "I'll tell you later. Now, it's your turn to share the details of your Horcrux hunt."

They told their audience everything, including the part about Cissy's make-up. Here, she blushed and kicked her brother under the table. Jean-Paul Lerois, however, looked quite cheerful. "You should tell your grandmother all about this," he told Cissy. "It's always good to know what your rivals' weaknesses are."

His mother was a manager of a prospering cosmetics company.

Then, Kingsley and Sylvie appeared, all covered in blood – fortunately, not their own – and not even a minute later, Raymond entered. He and Sylvie both looked very relieved to see their daughter and Cane unharmed. For a while, the chatter consisted of Harry, Ron and Hermione, and the remaining Horcruxes until Kingsley cleared his throat. "Eh, Lerois," he said, looking at Noel very uncomfortably.

"Yes?"

"I've got something to ask of you."

"Go on."

"We have traced some of the Death Eaters, and we have a good idea where their headquarters is."

"And?"

"It's Malfoy Manor."

Noel kept looking at the black wizard without understanding. "And what of that?"

"We know where the Manor is, but we can't penetrate its wards – they're too strong."

Here, Selena gave a hiss like an angry cat. Sirius, who had realized what Kingsley was trying to say, too, looked at her, wondering what she would do now. He didn't have to wait long.

"Forget about it, Shacklebolt!"

"Madame Lerois – "

"I said just shut up! They aren't going anywhere!"

"They?" Noel repeated. "You must mean Cissy and me. Where aren't we going?"

Kingsley looked at the two young people. "We need to know what their plans are," he said, "but we can't enter the Manor. Yet I think that, considering the sort of estate that Malfoy Manor is, you two have the best chances of penetrating its wards."

"Oh!" Cissy exclaimed. "Of course! The old pureblood defenses. You think that the wards that were built in the Manor will recognize us and – "

Kingsley nodded. "I think so. Lucius Malfoy _is_ your father, after all."

"He isn't," Noel said coldly, looking for all the world like Lucius Malfoy more than ever before. "I'll do what you want, but don't you _dare_ call him our father, Mr. Shacklebolt. Our father is sitting right there." He pointed with his chin at Jean-Paul Lerois, who smiled at him. Noel returned the smile.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. So, you're going to do this?"

"Always," Noel said, and Cissy nodded.

"No!" Selena almost yelled and stood up. "You have no idea what they are capable of. If they catch you, you'll regret ever being born."

"We can take care of ourselves, Mum," Cissy said.

"No, you can't!"

"They're adults now, Selena," Jean-Paul said in a tired voice, "and we can't stop them from making their own decisions." And then, just when Noel was opening his mouth to thank him, the second part came. "But it must be an informed decision." He turned to Kingsley. "I want you to give them the records you have of the Lestranges, Malfoys, and everyone else. I insist that they read them before they make their decision. They must know what they are going to face."

"It seems only fair," Kingsley agreed.

"Thank you, Dad," Noel said.

"Don't thank me. I don't want you to go there. I just can't stop you."

Cissy suddenly smiled. "You hope that we are going to give up the idea, don't you?"

"I do. I like this idea no more than your mother does. But you aren't going to give up, are you?"

She shook her head.

"There must be another way," Selena whispered.

"There isn't," Sylvie said. "We've already tried everything. They are there and we know where they are, but they just sit there and do their killing happily and in shortening intervals. We have to stop them."

"I'll go alone," Noel suddenly said. "That way if something happens to me, you'll still have Cissy unharmed and able to – "

"You aren't going alone!" his sister exclaimed indignantly. "Don't you _dare_ think that you can get rid of me, Noel Lerois!"

"The boy is right," Kingsley's voice drowned Cissy's objections, and Selena shrank him with a look.

"The _boy_ has a _name_. 'Noel,' if you don't know. But why should you know? What do you care if he dies trying to save the world?"

"He didn't mean it like that," Raymond spoke for a first time, and looked at Kingsley. "But you'd better watch your mouth, really." He turned to Selena again. "This isn't the first time we've been expected to risk the lives of one of our sons, Selena."

"But – "

"Yes, I know. He's _your_ son. Other people have sons too, Selena." His eyes became distant and she knew for sure that he thought about the tragic fates of his own sons. She remembered the night when Arielle had been rushed to St. Lazarre's with her life in danger because of the werewolf bite, and how Raymond had looked then. She sighed inaudibly, suddenly full of worry, sympathy, shame, and only Merlin knew what else.

"Raymond?"

"Yes?"

"You're a great man."

He almost laughed. "Where did that idea come to you from, Selena?"

"It's true."

She sighed and looked at her son. "I can't stop you, can I?"

He shook his head.

"Then I'll tell you all I know about the wards of the Manor."

"I'm coming with you," Cane said. When everyone looked at him, he merely shrugged. "I can disguise myself as Dolohov or something. And once Noel has dealt with the wards, he should be able to let me in."

Sirius frowned, suddenly feeling just as concerned as his sister was, but he did not say anything.

"Great, then I'm coming too," Arielle announced.

"No, you aren't!" Noel and Cane chorused.

She waved their objections away with her hand. "Of course I am. I was better in Defense than any of you, remember?"

"That's not a reason!" Cane argued.

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then it is not accepted," Cane said. "You aren't coming and that's it."

"Is it, really?"

"Excuse me," Sirius interjected, "but do you really consider it wise to go there in your condition?"

She blinked at him. "My condition? What's wrong with it? The full moon is – "

"No, no, I didn't mean _that_ condition."

A blank look. _She really doesn't know, _Sirius realized. "Arielle, remember what I told you, when you dived to get the Horcrux?"

She frowned. "Yes, but I had already reached for it. It was something about a Familiarity Charm. Well," she shrugged, "obviously you were mistaken. There was no such charm."

"There was," Selena interrupted. "There was a charm that would cause anyone who isn't a Black serious harm."

Kingsley whistled, looking at her with something like a grudging admiration. "My, my, you really stick at nothing, lady."

Arielle looked at the older woman and then at Sirius. Her face was surprised. "Then why was I okay?"

"I can think of only one reason," Sirius said. "That the Charm recognized not _you_, but something else. You were, let's say it this way, you were a kind of case for something else."

She looked even more bewildered. Sirius said nothing. He was looking at her, waiting – yes, waiting, as if by some miracle the meaning of his words would suddenly dawn on her.

Slowly, she went very pale and her eyes became huge. She looked at Sirius helplessly. "You mean that – " Her voice trailed.

He nodded. "You are with a child. His child, to be precise."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	26. Things Get Rough

_Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I own nothing._

**Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the story.**

Chapter 26

"What?"

"You heard me," Sirius said. "You're pregnant."

She shook her head. "That's impossible."

"Why would you think so?" Sirius asked calmly.

"Because I've started taking precautions as soon as I decided to give it a go with Cane," she answered, too concerned to care about modesty.

"Sometimes these things need a few weeks to start taking effect," Raymond cut in. He looked very worried – and very angry, and even a little afraid.

Arielle slunk deeper into her armchair and closed her eyes. "No," she whispered.

Cane crossed the room and stopped in front of her. "Do you think that Sirius has a point?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered hesitantly, "I suppose that it is possible – after all, I'm two days late, but it's not something unusual. I really don't know."

Cane's features melted, as if he was burned, and restored almost immediately. "Fall off," he told her, "just in case."

"What?" she asked, confused.

Cane grabbed her arms and started pulling her, until she was halfway to the floor, then he dropped her and Arielle fell to the floor.

"Now stand up, go back to the armchair and fall again. We may bring this monthly period on and save ourselves many troubles – "

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Troubles?" she asked, sitting back in her armchair.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure. We've just learned that I may be pregnant and all you can say is 'trouble'?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Listen, Arielle, don't be stupid. We don't even know whether you are pregnant or not."

At this point James, Kingsley and the Lerois family had made their escape from the rising quarrel. Raymond looked at Cane, then at Arielle, and finally said, "I can check this right now."

He took his wand out and before anyone could say a thing, there was a yellow aura surrounding Arielle. It soon turned red, until finally the young woman looked like she was wrapped in flames.

Raymond sighed and lowered his wand. "Congratulations, you silly fool," he said. "You're pregnant."

Arielle shook her head disbelievingly. Cane marched at the wall and landed his fist on it with a loud curse. Sylvie moved her glance from her daughter to her nephew and then to her ex-husband, as if she expected of him to tell her that it was just a stupid joke. His grim face told her otherwise.

"I can't believe it!" she exploded. "I warned you again and again, and again, all the time! _Be careful, Arielle! Take no chances, Arielle! _But no, it's the great love of your life. Parents have no say in it. Children are so smart, so experienced, they know everything better!"

"Do you think I've planned it?" Arielle yelled at her mother. "I made anything I could to make sure that it wouln't happen!"

"Yeah, everything," Sylvie roared back. "Then why the flame was red, can you tell me? If you've done everything, we wouldn't have to resort to procuring an abortion now."

"What?" Arielle's hand settled protectively on her stomach. "An abortion? Forget about it, Mum. I won't bring on a miscarriage. I just won't."

Cane moved to her and raised his bloodied palm to her face. "Arielle," he said softly, "please, think about it sensibly. You know that there is no chance for this baby to be carried to the term. It's too dangerous for you."

Her eyes were fiery. "And what do you want of me, Cane Black? To abort my – our – baby?"

"I just want you to be fine! Healthy! And alive!"

"In other words, you want me to kill the baby," she stated icily. Her face was paling with a frightening speed, until all that looked alive were her red hair and her blazing eyes. "Say it, I want to hear it!"

Cane was silent.

She pummeled her fist in his chest. "Say it, damn you!" she yelled.

"Yes!" Cane shouted. "Yes, that's what I want. I want you to be fine and if the baby's life is the price that I have to pay for this, then so be it!"

Arielle stood up quickly and faced him. "I am not ready to pay this price," she cried. "I won't bring a miscarriage. I don't care what can happen to me. I won't bring a miscarriage!"

The slap was so sudden that for a moment the shocked Sirius thought that it was Cane who had hit her. Then he realized that Raymond had pushed the young Metamorphmagus aside and was standing in front of Arielle. His hand was still in the air.

The sudden slap shocked Raymond as much as it did the others. Sylvie's eyes widened with disbelief.

During the years of their children's turbulent growing up, Sylvie had pinched and hit all four of them with irresistible delight – sometimes the voice of reason just refused to work on the young Lupins and their mother was lost in the grasp of some children-induced madness. Now, that worked without failing – Sylvie's children had always regarded with respectable curiosity the moments when their mother flew into a rage.

Raymond, on the other side, had never hit any of them! He could not even move, he was so shocked, and looking at the raised hand, Sylvie thought that it could not possibly be his.

"Don't ever say that," Raymond hissed in a low voice. "You may not care what can happen to you, but _we_ care. _I_ care. I won't allow you to ruin your health and endanger your life because of a single unfortunate mistake."

Arielle was pressing her hand to her cheek, where a large red mark had already started to form. Her firm expression did not change.

"Merlin, what's going on?" Remus asked, entering the room. "Ah, you're back, that's good. What's – Arielle, what's this mark on your cheek?"

"Ah, Remus. My man! Welcome, dear brother, it seems that we have wonderful news for you!"

Remus knew his brother longer than yesterday, so he was sure that this outburst would soon be followed by explanations. "What's going on here?"

"Come here, Remus!" Raymond exploded. "We can congratulate each other. We are almost relatives – again! Just nine months, and we'll be grandfathers!"

"Raymond, stop it!" Sylvie said sharply. "You're going too far!"

"I won't miscarry!" Arielle yelled. "Never! I won't bring a miscarriage!"

And she stormed out of the room, furious and in tears.

"Goddamn it!" Cane yelled and punched the wall for a second time. This time, the distinct sickening sound of breaking knuckles could be heard very clearly. Raymond reached for his wand, but Cane shook his head, refusing to be healed.

"Is it true?" Remus asked him, almost yelling, losing his famous self-control. "Tell me that it isn't!"

Cane pushed Remus' arm aside. "It's true!" he shouted. "I'm trying to convince her for an abortion, but she won't hear a word of it!"

He left the kitchen, leaving a track of dripping blood behind him. Sylvie sighed deeply, poured herself a glass of Firewhiskey and turned it down, then filled a second one and brought it to her lips.

"Merlin, I need a glass of this stuff too," Remus said, and Sylvie silently filled three other glasses and handed them to the men, before draining her own shot.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Go away."

Cane made a step inside the room.

"I said, go away!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

He made two slow steps and sat on the bed next to her. She turned aside.

"Arielle – "

"Please," she said softly, "please, don't."

"Arielle, please, be reasonable." He hesitated but decided that would be better if he did not touch her right now.

She stiffened. "And 'being reasonable', of course, means agreeing to procure an abortion."

"Love, it's not as if we had planned this. It was an accident, we both thought it was safe. Neither you nor I wanted a pregnancy, am I right?"

She turned to him and he saw the tears that were still running over her cheeks. Her voice was hoarse with crying. "But it happened, Cane! I am pregnant and I want the baby."

"Arielle, I want the baby too."

She shook her head. "No, you don't."

"You know that I do."

"If you wanted it, you wouldn't try to convince me for abortion," she whispered, her previous anger completely gone.

He took her in his arms. "The baby in putting your life in danger and you're endangering its life."

"No!" she cried.

He continued mercilessly, "You have to take a potion that is going to damage his health irreversibly."

"Then I won't take it anymore."

"You can't. The wolf is going to tear you to pieces if you _ever_ stop taking the potion. And destroying you would mean destroying the baby, too."

She shook her head and pushed his arms aside. "That isn't true!" she cried.

"It is!" Cane finally met her shouting with a shout of his own. "You know it is true! And I won't let you destroy yourself, no matter what you do or say!"

She hit him with all her might, before suddenly sighing and throwing herself on the bed. "I don't want to lose my baby!" she sobbed desperately.

Cane hugged her again. "Honey, neither do I. You know how much I love children and how much I'd like to have a baby with you. You know that." She nodded weakly against his chest. "But I'd rather have you alive. That's the most important thing to me. I prefer you to anything else in the world."

Another nod. Yes, she knew that. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry that I'm so awful."

"You aren't awful," he answered. "You're just – you're suffering a great shock."

"And what about you?"

He buried his face in her hair. "So am I."

-–––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**Later ****that night…**

"Is that it?" Noel asked, and Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded.

"Yes, this is the closest place to Malfoy Manor that we can reach."

The knot in Noel's stomach tightened, and he was grateful for the dim light, because he was sure that his face was paler than usual, which meant deadly pale. "Then, I'll go."

The black wizard nodded. "From now on, you're on your own, boy. I'll place a Track on you, but I'm not sure whether it would work inside the Manor. I'll be waiting for you here, just in case, you know. But you'd better hurry up, because the longer you stay inside, the greater risk you take." He suddenly grinned. "And an Auror or not, I wouldn't want to be the one to deliver the sad news of your passing to your mother. As long as I remember, she had some amazing jinxes back at Hogwarts."

"You knew her at school?" Noel was surprised. "I didn't know."

"Well, she was not interested in Gryffindors, especially those younger than her, but everyone knew who the Slytherin Princess was. And there was not a single guy who could forget her after seeing her once, not even I."

He grinned and was glad to see that the boy looked slightly less nervous. "Good luck," he whispered softly. "Just walk and think that you want to enter the Manor. That's all that you can do. If the wards don't let you in, you won't be able to violate them."

Noel felt slightly skeptical for this whole enterprise, but he said nothing. _It can't be that easy, can it?_ He headed in the direction that the Auror had shown him, and felt almost no surprise, when he bumped into the wall. It was an invisible wall, yet quite real, if the bump on his forehead could be taken as evidence. He started walking past the ward, not trying to break it with his magic, although he had his wand ready in case that he met one of the Death Eaters. He would have to _convince_ the wall to let him in. He walked and walked for what felt like hours, thinking of the woman who was inside Malfoy Manor. Oh, how wished he to make her pay for hurting his parents and his siblings and ruining their home. What horrible things he would do to her once they had her in their power. He still had no clear idea what those things would be, but undoubtedly, they would be the most terrible products of his overactive imagination.

He felt the slight wind coming to him from the wall, and turned to it. He had to make Bellatrix Lestrange pay – her and Rodolphus, and the Malfoys, and all other detestable creatures who thought that they had the right to decide who should live and who should not just because they've been born in magical families. They had to pay and he had to find them and learn as much for their plans as he possibly could, and in order to do that, he had to enter this manor. He turned towards the wall and made a step, wishing with all his mind. And almost fell on the ground, losing his balance, when the ward suddenly disappeared.

Malfoy Manor was dark and calm, yet Noel felt like that there was something prowling after him, watching every step he made. Maybe it was the mere presence of the evil incarnated between those walls. Yet, he had no time to think over that. He had to decide where he should search first. His mother had drawn him a map of the Manor, so he knew where every room was situated. Maybe he should check Lucius' Malfoy's study first.

He was half on his way there, hiding in the shadows, his wand ready in his hand, when an anguished howl made him stop. With a sickening feeling he realized that it was a human voice, but changed and tortured into almost animalistic one. Of course, the Order of the Phoenix had suspected that the Death Eaters kept prisoners here, but actually hearing this theory confirmed made him freeze in his place. Almost against his will, he followed the sound – saying all the time to himself in his head how stupid he was and how he could not do anything to help the victim – and finally stopped in front of a door made by dark wood and ornate with silver inlays. It was not quite close and he had to give it only the slightest push to be able to see what was going on – the figures in dark robes gathered in circle, the young woman who was writhing in agony under some sort of soundless spell produced by one of the wizards – Noel was pretty sure that it was the Cruciatus Curse – and finally the red eyes and pale face of the man who was sitting on something like a throne in the middle of the room. _Voldemort_, Noel thought, and the fear clenched his heart like a fist. He had been told about the Dark Lord ever since childhood, and yet nothing that he had heard could have possibly prepared him for the aura of power, menace and might that Lord Voldemort was radiating. _How could we ever thought that we might succeed to defeat him_, Noel asked himself dejectedly. _What could we do against him_?

The woman on the floor screamed again and her face twitched in agony. One of the Death Eaters set foot on her long silver hair and pulled it aside, dragging her head after it under an angle that could not be natural. The girl whimpered and yelled again. _Our best,_ Noel answered himself, _our best_.

"Our half-breed friend seemed quite exhausted," Voldemort said. "Maybe we should give her the mercy of the _eternal_ sleep. You can take care of that, Wormtail. After all, you had such a success with the Lupin boy."

_Arion_? Noel strained his hearing, hoping to hear something that would give him a hint where his former schoolmate was, but Voldemort was already talking about the girl again. "On the other hand, we'd better not do it now. We can always find a Veela a more _interesting_ uses."

The Death Eaters roared with laughter. _A Veela_, Noel thought. _Yes, that explains it all_. The girl on the floor looked very much like Fleur and Morgaine, Cane's little sister. That could explain the altitude that the Death Eaters had towards her – to them, she was less than an animal.

"Has someone taken care to feed our prisoners this evening?" Voldemort asked. "No? Well, Draco, you can do it now. Oh, and return our friend to her room."

A new laughter. Noel recognized the sneering note in it and had barely a moment to think about what it might mean, when he had to throw himself into the first corridor to avoid being seen.

"_Lumos_," someone muttered, and Noel cursed inwardly the light that shone into the dark Manor. A moment later, a boy walked past the corridor he was hiding in, Levitating the young Veela in front of him. Noel held his breath. No wonder that Harry Potter and his friends had mistaken him for Draco Malfoy and no wonder that his friends who had visited Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, had been so confused – Noel felt like he was looking at his own face. _Only that there is this expression of fear and hatred that I hope never to see written over my own face_, he thought and felt a wave of gratitude for his mother for her running away. _If she had stayed, I could have easily been one of them – I could have been _him. Noel memorized the way that Draco Malfoy was following, because he intended to use it to find the prisoners. He had no idea what he would do when he saw them – in fact, there was nothing that he _could_ do right now, – but he had to know how many of them were there and where they were held. _Soon, I'll come back and I'll release each one of them_, he promised silently, although he knew that most probably his words would remain only a promise.

He found Lucius Malfoy's study sooner than expected. He hesitated briefly in front of the desk, wondering whether it was charmed to cut the arm of any intruder, but finally opened it. There was some jinx that he considered pathetic, and then he was free to look at the documents inside. Unfortunately, they were only Malfoy's private documents. Noel had already started to feel disappointed when he found something that was worth looking at – the reports of Ted Tonks' last known whereabouts, as well as the name of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, written in red and crossed with a thick line. "Mine," Noel read on the page next to it, and then the initials B. L. The next document was filled with information about the 'abomination' known as Cane Black – a picture of his natural face, a list of his known preferred impersonations, and half a page about his relationship with his relatives. Arielle Lupin's name was written as 'weak spot'. Noel's blood curdled.

The next document was even worse – it was a list of the children who were supposed to start Hogwarts this year. Noel could easily imagine how, instead of an owl with a letter, the Muggle families would be graced with the visit of dark wizards, impatient to rid the world of Muggleborns. He shoved the list in his pocket and headed stealthily for the cellars.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The darkness was breathing like a living creature. It enveloped Arion Lupin's whole world. He was living in an endless night – he perceived the details of his captivity by all his other senses but not his eyesight. The heavy iron collar rubbed his neck sore and the thin rug that he was lying on, did not lessen the cold from the icy stone floor below. Two other chains were tightened around his arms and his legs, and all the three of them were attached to the lovely bed wit fretwork and clean cotton covering. The bed itself was another form of torture, because he needed only a few more inches of the chain to be able to lie in it. He was given food once in two days, always the same meal – some vegetable gruel with a small piece of meat in a wooded plate. He was not given a fork and he had to lap like an animal, burying his face in the trough. Arion lapped. He would have done anything to survive, because during those almost two years of imprisonment he had decided to do one thing, at least – to survive, so that he could get his revenge.

He could not stop worrying about the others. True, Morgaine had told him that his parents and siblings were alive, as well as his friends, but it was a long time ago – Arion did not know how much exactly, he had lost his sense of time. Besides, the fate of Morgaine herself was still a mystery. Pettigrew's last words did not give Arion much comfort and he spent hours after hours worrying over her – over all of them.

That was what he was doing, when the door of his cell suddenly cracked open. It did not open, though, as if someone was trying to see what was inside first. Arion stood immobile, until he recognized the distinct silver hair of the Malfoy boy. "It's you," he said with disgust. "Why are you skulking like – "

And then he felt a strong hand clapping his mouth. "No," a strangely familiar voice hissed, "it isn't him, it's me. It's Noel."

_Noel? How is it possible?_ Yet, it was true. It was really Noel Lerois who was crouching beside him. Arion decided to postpone the questions for later, seeing that Noel was trying to open his chains with magic. "They are magic-proof," he said hastily. "The whole cell is. I've tried everything."

After a minute Noel had to admit that his friend was right. Yet, looking at the small window above their heads, he decided that there still was a chance for Arion to escape, if only –

"Merlin, I'm so glad to hear that they're all okay," Arion was saying. "They like to torment me, you know – they say me that one or another of them is dead. Sometimes it is Chantal, sometimes it's my parents. I know that they are doing it just to scare me, and yet – "

"They are okay," Noel ensured him. _Yes, the window is looking at the courtyard._

He went in the corridor, so that he could magic an iron rasper, and gave it to Arion. "Try to file your chains off with this," he said. "In two or three days, you must be ready. I'll come outside and help you to climb up through this window."

Arion nodded. "And what about the others?" he asked.

"Concentrate on your own escape now," Noel said sharply, "leave it to us to think about the others."

Arion nodded again.

"In three days," he said. "I'll be ready."

"Until then," Noel said and left cautiously.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

_An hour later…_

Just like Noel had expected, the news about the future Muggleborn first-years being in Voldemort's list worried the people in Grimmauld Place to a great extent. They decided to place the strongest protection possible in their living areas early in the morning. James, however, was worried more than the others, because one of the names meant something to him – 'Carter, L'.

"This is Linda's girl!" he exclaimed, his mind flying from the perspective of Linda and her kids being tortured because of the Muggleborn witch in their family to the perspective of Linda and her kids being tortured because of their connection to James.

"Maybe you should bring them here," Sirius suggested.

"Yes, maybe," James agreed. "Winston is leaving for Italy in a few days – he is a student there, – so he'll be safe, but Linda and her daughter – "

"Well, Linda already knows this place and she knows about the danger we're all living in," Sirius shrugged. "I don't think that she would mind staying here."

"I don't think, either," James agreed, and Sirius found himself smiling. Soon, he would have again his companion for the morning coffee. Not that he had missed talking to her, of course.

Early in the morning, James Apparated to Linda's home and Sirius was sitting alone in the kitchen, thinking of everything that had happened lately. James' resurrection. Selena. The torture of the Veela girl that Noel had described to them. Arielle and the baby. And of course, the real Arielle chose to enter just then.

Sirius studied her with concern. She was very pale and she had cried, that much was obvious. Her eyes and nose were reddened. Sirius offered her a sandwich and she smiled faintly in gratitude. "How are you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'm still pregnant, if that's what you want to know, and yes, I shall remain pregnant for the next nine months. Dear Morgaine, I'm sorry," she continued without a pause, "I didn't want to be rude, it's just that I've already met my mother, my father, and Cane, and they all tried to convince me for abortion."

Sirius said nothing. "It's only Julian and Anath who support my decision," she went on, "and I'm just a little innerved."

_Sure, only a little_, Sirius thought. "Where is Cane?"

"Still sleeping."

Sirius sipped at his coffee, looking at her and trying to understand whether she was angry with his son or not. Truth be told, he thought that they were all overreacting. He had spent countless nights with Moony in his worst moods – surely Arielle's wolf could not be far worse?

"You aren't angry with him, are you?" he finally asked, remembering Angela's anger at him, when he himself had insisted that she aborted all those years ago. _Thank Merlin that she did not listen to me!_ If she had, Cane wouldn't be there. Sirius' life wouldn't have been happier. More peaceful, yes, but not happier.

Arielle slowly shook her head. "No, not really. I mean, I'm angry that he doesn't understand me, but I know that he is suffering as much as I am. He wants the baby, I have no doubts about that. He's just worried about me."

_And that, _Sirius realized_, makes the whole difference_. All those years ago, he had not wanted his unborn child and Angela had known that; Cane, on the other hand, wanted the baby that he insisted to be aborted, and Arielle knew that. _It's easy for her to forgive him._

Arielle was looking at him with curiosity. "Would you have married her anyway?" she asked.

_Merlin, she's read my thoughts_! "Probably. Just later."

She nodded, as if she understood perfectly. _Well, with a family like hers, she must know many than her fair share of knowledge about how different love is._

"He loves you, you know," he said slowly. "I knew it the first time I saw the two of you together – Cane _was_ painfully obvious. And then again, when you took a silver tea-cup by mistake."

She shivered at the memory and her hand went to her stomach, as if she wanted to shield the baby from the pain that she had experienced that day. Sirius was painfully reminded of Angela during both her pregnancies. "It's odd, you know," he smiled faintly. "I've just suddenly realized that Cane loves you in exactly the same way that I loved his mother."

Arielle sank deeply on the sofa and gave him a questioning look, lifting a dark eyebrow. "And how is that?" she asked.

"With all his heart, and soul, and mind," he answered and noticed the sudden brightening of her eyes.

"A piece of cake?" he asked, and she smiled.

"Why not?"

A few minutes later, Cane appeared in the doorway. Obviously Arielle did not feel ready to talk to him yet, so she excused herself and left.

Cane looked as bad as she did – lack of sleep, Sirius decided, but before he would have the time to think further about this, Noel's appearance made all thoughts about Cane's looks vanish from his mind.

"It's good to see that the two of you are alone," Noel said without introduction. "I didn't want to discuss it in front of Arielle or her parents."

"What is it?" Sirius asked, surprised by his lack of manners. Noel and Cissy, who was following him, exchanged dark looks.

"Last night, Voldemort said something – " Noel began.

"Yes?"

" – that made me think that your friend Pettigrew – "

"He isn't my friend."

"– is the one responsible for the Dark spell that turned John Lupin into a living corpse."

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14


	27. Reconstruction of a Crime

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my clothes. Oh, and my make-up. And yes, I currently own my living room, as good as new. The kitchen will have to wait for a few weeks.**

_Thanks for each and every review of this story!_

**Thanks to saiyanwizardgurl for editing.**

Chapter 27

Slowly, in a deep calm voice, including each detail, Noel told them about the circumstances under which Voldemort had said the words.

"And you are sure that he said 'John Lupin'?" Cane wanted to know, and Noel frowned.

"Well, he did not specify the first name; he only spoke about the eternal sleep of the Lupin boy. First, I thought he meant Arion, but later I saw him and he did not mention anything about being put to sleep or into unconsciousness. And then it occurred to me that Voldemort must have meant John Lupin. I mean, he is still under the effect of the Curse of the Living Death, isn't he?"

"He is," Cane confirmed. "And the British Ministry kept saying that he and his girlfriend had done it themselves. An experiment gone wrong," he explained, seeing Sirius' confused look.

Sirius laughed disbelievingly. "They are even thicker than I gave them credit for," he said. "Only an idiot would carry out such an experiment."

"That's exactly what we thought in France," Cissy said dryly.

"People knew about that? _In France?_"

"John's parents are very famous in our country," the girl shrugged. "I remember that this case brought some problems – our compatriots were furious that a Frenchman had been killed in England – well, almost killed – and the incompetent Ministry did nothing to solve the case."

"He's half-English," Sirius muttered absent-mindedly. His thoughts were running madly in his head. Could Noel have got it right? Had Peter – little, weak Peter – not only betrayed James, but cursed for life a boy that they all had known and loved? _He would have done it, without batting an eyelid, _he thought,_ but why?_ _What reason did he have to attack John and the girl, Angela's sister?_

"He said that Pettigrew did a good job with the Lupin boy," Noel declared. "Cane, I think we might acquaint a better idea of what happened back then if you tell us what you know – I suppose you know the circumstances surrounding the accident better than the rest of us combined."

"All right," Cane agreed and threw a look at the door to be sure that Arielle and her parents were not standing there. "John Lupin was nineteen. He had been accepted for Auror training a year earlier after graduating from Beauxbatons, and after his first year, he was sent to Britain for an exchange collaboration program. Here, he met a girl – Eleanor Peters, my mother's younger sister. She was a trainee too, and they soon started a relationship. None of us ever met her. However, it seemed that they had serious plans for a future together because she got pregnant. A few days before Christmas, John took her to our grandparents' house – they were not in the country back then. Arion was there for a few days, and John introduced him to Eleanor. Everything seemed fine, but two days later, the Aurors and the Healers were called by emergency. There had been a battle in the house. Arion was found lying unconscious on the ground next to the front door, and John and Eleanor were in one of the rooms." He swallowed hard. "They were diagnosed with the Curse of the Living Death and brought to St. Mungo's. Arion had many scratches and bruises, and he was covered in pieces of glass from the broken window of the room that his brother and Eleanor were found in. He must have jumped through it and tried to run, but nobody knows for sure. He had a Memory Charm placed on him and Uncle Raymond and Aunt Sylvie did not dare try and break it for fear of causing him further harm."

He was very pale now and he was breathing faster. Sirius wanted to give him a glass of water and something to eat – if he kept starving himself like this, he would soon vanish – but he correctly supposed that Cane did not want his weakness to be exposed.

"The British Ministry said it was an accident – that John and Eleanor were experimenting with curses, as far as I can remember," Cissy said.

"Yeah, sure, and John placed the Memory Charm on his brother just for fun," Cane said sarcastically. "How often you two practice serious charms on your siblings?" he demanded.

"Calm down, Cane," she said sharply, "I'm just repeating what people said and you're reacting as if it's my own opinion… "

"Sorry. Yes, you're right, they said that, but it wasn't true. John was brave and thirsty for knowledge, but he was not a fool – his mother was an Auror, his father was a Healer, and he knew pretty well how dangerous some curses can be. Besides, there is no way that he had placed a Memory Charm on his brother. Neither would he have exposed Eleanor's life to danger, especially when she was pregnant." He fell silent. "But Aunt Sylvie and her friends ran their own investigation without finding anything out."

"Well, they couldn't have found anything if the perpetrator was a dead man," Noel said reasonably.

"Or someone who is supposed to be dead," Sirius growled. "Are you sure that those were Voldemort's exact words, Noel? 'You had such success with the Lupin boy'?"

Noel nodded.

Cane drew his wand and casted his Patronus. "Fred and George Weasley," he said clearly, and the Patronus bowed its head.

James entered just in time to see the large silver wolf wandering off. Linda, who was walking behind him, seemed simply impressed – she had learned that everything was possible in this new world, but the young man with auburn hair who was accompanying her looked at the place where the strange creature had been only a moment ago with his mouth opened.

"Amazing!" said the little girl who was holding Linda's hand. "It just flew out!"

James threw a quick glance at Cane, who was still holding his wand, and then at Sirius.

"Why did you do that?" Cissy asked.

"If Noel is right, Pettigrew must have taken a wand from somewhere."

"Peter?" James' attention was immediately attracted. "What did he do this time?"

"Cursed John Lupin with the Living Dead," Noel answered.

"We aren't sure he did," his sister reminded him.

"Merlin!" James exclaimed, but then seemed to remember that he had brought with him other people and had to fulfill his duties towards them. "Well, we'll talk about it later. I think you all know my friend Linda Carter?" Nods. "This is her son, Winston Carter."

'Oh!" Cissy suddenly exclaimed. "I've read about you! You are Christopher Carter's son, right?"

The young man nodded uneasily and smiled at Cissy – he seemed quite taken with her.

"I am his greatest admirer and so are my parents," she continued. "We have six of his paintings at home."

"It's good to hear that," Winston answered in a manner that suggested that he had heard that many times and did not like it one bit.

Cissy blinked and tried to find out what she had said wrong. The girl helped her. "Winston doesn't like it very much, when he hears people praising our father," she said. "You see, he studies fine arts in Italy and people expect him to be just as great as Dad was. That really pisses him off."

Linda opened her mouth, but her son beat her to it. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll – " he threatened.

She seemed completely unafraid. "What are you going to do to me if I don't?"

"I'll give you a spank," he promised.

She grinned. "You'd never lay a finger on me."

"A real lapse that I should correct now, kid."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"And why not, I'd like to know?"

"Because if you do, Michael will turn you into a donkey!" she said victoriously. "Won't you, Michael – I mean, James?"

"No," he said firmly, "I've outgrown that sort of childish behavior. But I'll give him a spanking, I promise you."

Her grin broadened.

"What?" her brother asked. "You mean that if I give her a well-deserved spanking, you will take her side? Really? I mean, you love me as much you love her, don't you?"

"I love you, of course," James said, "and you know that, Winston. But if you lay a finger on my flower, I will give you a spanking like you were a misbehaved child."

Winston shook his head. "I hate it when you play favorites," he muttered, unable to completely hide the smile that kept returning to his lips.

"Enough childish bickering," Linda snapped. "Your sister is overexcited and that is understandable, given the fact that she just found out that she is a witch, but you're an adult and I expect of you to behave in a proper way. This isn't some stupid movie. It's serious, Winston."

"I know, Mum, but I can't digest it. I mean, I saw what Michael – James – can do with this stick and the way he took us there and I saw the creature in the hallway! But for God's sake, we're talking about _magic_! Hidden houses and evil wizards, not to mention that my baby sister is one, or so he says." Under her hard look, he sighed. "Fine, I'm shutting up."

"I can't believe that I'm a witch!" the girl said to no one in particular. "And that there is a school for magic and I'm going there!"

"You aren't," James reminded her, "at least not this year."

"What was that wolf?" she asked. "The wolf that flew away?"

"It's called a Patronus," Cissy said. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself," she added, looking at Winston. "I am Cissy Lerois, and this is my brother Noel. This is Sirius Black, and his son, Cane."

The girl gasped when Cane turned his hair purple and winked at her. "You really are a wizard," she whispered in awe, "Cane Black."

"I really am," he smiled. "And you are – ?"

"Her godfather chose her name," Linda said. "He wasn't sure why he chose this one, but he felt that it was important to name her after someone who had played a role in his life, although he could not remember what that role was."

The girl smiled and stretched her hand out to Cane. "Lily."

Sirius looked at James, who smiled at him with a little grief and more pride while he was watching his goddaughter.

"I'm sure that one day you'll become a very great witch, Lily Carter," he said very seriously, and she smiled again. She looked like her beautiful mother in miniature.

Linda sighed. "You did it now," she told Cane. "She hasn't shut up about it at least for a week." Then she turned to her children. "Well, it seems that we interrupted a conversation that was important. We'd better leave now. Sirius, I believe we can use the room I was previously put in?"

"Yes, of course," he replied.

"Good. No, no, James," she said firmly, "you stay here and take your part in the conversation. We can find the way on our own."

The three of them left – Winston throwing one last quick glance at Cissy – and Sirius looked at James. "Lily?"

James shrugged. "I felt like naming her that."

There was something strange about this. Not the name itself – of course the name 'Lily' would mean something to James, but why had the child's godfather been the one to choose her name? She had parents who obviously loved her and cared about her. Then, Sirius remembered that Linda was divorced. Yet, it still did not fit. Had the children's father lost interest in them even before Lily's birth? _And why am I thinking about this anyway?_ Sirius wondered.

"So, what was that about Peter cursing John?" James asked.

They had just finished the explanations when Fred and George came, bubbling with excitement and good moods as usual.

"So, what's going on?" Fred wanted to know.

"Did one of your wands disappear seven years ago?"

"What?"

"Around Christmas. We need to know whether one of you has lost his wand."

"Seven years ago? And you expect us to remember… Are you kidding me?"

"No, Fred, I'm not. It's important."

The twins were still grinning, but now they looked like they were trying to remember. "Yes," George finally said, "right before Christmas. Percy lost his wand and couldn't find it for a few days."

Fred frowned. "Did he? I can't remember – "

"Come on, Fred! Mum punished us because she thought we had stolen it. And we were completely innocent on this one!"

Fred snickered. "Ah, yes. Just after we had come home for Christmas, right?"

"For how long was the wand missing?" Noel asked.

"A day or two." George's eyes narrowed. "Why are you all so interested in this wand?"

"Because we think that this wand may be the one that was used to curse a boy and a girl with the Curse of the Living Dead," Cane said.

The twins' grins disappeared at once. "What?" Fred demanded, and then laughed with contempt. "Are you mad? We're talking about Percy here. Percy may be a prat – I swear he is the biggest git ever born – and he definitely is an idiot, but he doesn't curse people."

"We never said that he did. What we said was that we have a cursed boy, a cursed girl, a missing wand, and a wizard who was proven Dark near that same wand."

Fred and George looked at each other. "Peter Pettigrew stole Percy's wand and cursed them, you mean," Fred said, giving Cane's words their full meaning. "But why? Who were they?"

"John Lupin and Eleanor Peters, Auror trainees. Heard of them?"

Fred frowned. "Yes, Dad was telling the story to Mum, I vaguely remember. They never found the perpetrator, did they?"

No one answered.

"But why?" Cissy finally asked. "What reason did he have to do this?"

"He must have had one," James spoke for a first time. "No matter how wrong we all were about Peter, I'll tell you this: he wouldn't have performed such a dangerous spell without a reason, and a good one at that. He's too cowardly."

"So, it must have meant something to him," the girl said thoughtfully.

"Surely," Cane said angrily. His face was very cold and he was not calm at all. He looked first at James and then at Sirius. "He must have been afraid of John and I suppose I know why. Did you two know John?"

James and Sirius exchanged looks, clearly confused. "Yes," James said, "yes, of course. We knew him when he was a child. Why?"

"How many times did you see him? Have you ever played with him, babysat him, maybe?"

They both gasped at the same time. Cane sighed. "So you have," he said, and turned to Noel. "Sirius and James knew John, so Peter must have known him, too. And John must have known them." He paused. "On the night of the curse, John sent an owl to Remus, saying that there was something crucial that he wanted to discuss with him. Unfortunately, Remus did not have the time to ask him what it was."

"So, you think – ?" Noel started.

"I think that Peter Pettigrew was somewhere in his human shape. I don't know where he was or when it happened, but at some point he came upon John Lupin, who recognized him. Peter saw him too – _and realized that John had recognized him_. John was older than the rest of us – he was nine at the time the war ended. Old enough to remember Pettigrew. The rest of the story is clear. John simply could not be allowed to tell this to anyone."

"So Pettigrew stole Percy's wand, cursed both John and this Peters girl and then came back to our house to sleep in our brother's bed?" Fred asked, amazed. Cane nodded. "Merlin on a bike! George, when this is all over, the first thing we are going to do is disinfecting the Burrow."

**(A. N. For anyone who is interested in discovering exactly what happened seven years ago, go to my story **_**One Last Meeting**_**.)**

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Half an hour later…_

"We have to tell Remus," James said, after the twins left and Noel and Cissy went to find their parents.

Cane, who had been unusually quiet, sighed. "Yes, I suppose we really have to." A pause. "He's going to feel guilty, you know. After all, John met the bastard through him."

The two older men said nothing – they knew that he was right.

"We'd better not tell Uncle Raymond and Aunt Sylvie," Cane said, and stood up. "I'll go to Arielle now. Maybe her parents have knocked some sense into her."

James and Sirius watched him leaving. When the door was closed behind him, James looked at his friend. "How are you?"

"Bad," Sirius answered.

"So am I."

They both fell silent, thinking of the boy with dark hair and blue eyes that they had played with, had taken to the park, had bought chocolates – the gifted child who they had taught to perform magic with their wands when he had been no more than three. The golden child. Cursed by their friend. How could they have not known? Why hadn't they seen what Peter was turning into?

"I can't wait for the day when he'll be in our hands," James said softly, but with a tone of finality.

"Same here, James. Same here."

"He's the one who is guilty for everything. For Lily's death. For Harry's living with those horrible Dursleys. For your imprisonment. And even for Angela's death. And now this!"

Sirius did not say anything. He was looking at the table, his eyes dull. James hesitated, but then asked him, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Is it because of the Patronus?"

Sirius laughed and it was not a cheerful sound. "You know me too well, Prongs. I'm okay. I just haven't seen his Patronus until now, that's all."

"Well, my Patronus is a stag and his Animagus form is a wolf, so it might be just – "

Sirius shook his head. "Don't say that, James. Don't make it worse than it already is. It wasn't because of his Animagus and you know it. You saw it. It was not a random wolf, either. It was Moony."

James kept silent. What could he say? He knew that Sirius was right. "You must have known that it was possible," he said. "I mean, I don't want to make you feel bad, but Cane adores him and that is evident."

"Yes," Sirius agreed and ran his hands through his hair. "I thought that his Patronus may be a wolf, but actually seeing it – " He bit his lip. _I don't even have the comfort to think that Remus had stolen him from me, _he thought bitterly. _Because he didn't. I lost him. I gave him to Remus._

"Sometimes I hate him," he said. "Sometimes I really, really hate him. Remus, I mean. Not Cane."

James sighed. "You don't hate him," he said softly. "You know you don't."

"Well, I suppose I don't," Sirius admitted in a tired voice, "and yet – Merlin, it's so messed up!"

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Later that day…_

"Would you mind some company?"

Sirius shook his head. "Be my guest." He made another cup of coffee with his wand. "Milk or cream?"

"Both. And sugar."

Sirius watched, wide-eyed, while Jean-Paul Lerois filled his cup with a liter of milk and then topped it with a mountain of cream. The Frenchman noticed his look and chuckled. "Yes, your sister looked the same way when I invited her for our first coffee. She said something like 'Where do you intend to put all that?'"

Now Sirius was the one chuckling. "I'm sorry," he apologized, making another coffee for himself.

His brother in-law shook his head. "Let me guess. Black, no milk, no sugar, just bitterness. Just the way your sister drinks her coffee, her tea, her everything." Another shake of the head. "Freaky, if you ask me."

"Stylish," Sirius corrected him. "That's what my mother always taught us. Old habits die hard, you know."

"And that's exactly what your father said."

The coffee splashed over the table. Sirius looked at Jean-Paul Lerois with disbelief. "You knew my father?"

"I did. I met him a couple of times before his death."

"And he let you live?"

As soon as Sirius said the words, he felt how offensive they had sounded and was about to apologize, but Jean-Paul did not feel insulted – he had been living with Selena for almost twenty years. He had had enough contact with the magical world and he knew what Sirius meant. "I think that all this had stopped mattering to him," he answered simply. "He was not too old, but he was very ill. He knew that he would die soon, and despite everything, he was desperate to see Selena again. He was ready to do anything to be a part of her life for the time that he still had left."

Stunned, Sirius tried to comprehend the idea that his father might have had a heart after all. He remembered that Orion Black had never let his wife punish the three children with curses. That could count for something, Sirius supposed.

Jean-Paul sipped at his tea. "I was very surprised to see Linda Carter here," he said. "The world is small, really."

Sirius gave him a quick look. "You know her?"

"He does," Selena said from the threshold, and slid inside. "We both do. Not very well, though."

Jean-Paul Lerois stood up. "I have to make some calls to Paris," he said.

"From the outside," his wife reminded him, "mobiles don't work here. Take Noel with you."

"See you later."

She sat on the chair that her husband had previously occupied, and looked at Sirius with amusement. "So," she said.

"So, what?"

"Linda Carter," she answered.

"What about her?"

Selena smiled broadly. "You like her."

"I don't."

"You do."

"No."

"Then why do you look like you looked at Hogwarts, trying to look uninterested while the others talked about Angela Peters?"

"I never did such a thing!"

"Oh, you did. Facts are facts."

"There is no such thing! No such facts. I never did that!"

"So, you don't want to know about Linda Carter?"

"I never said that," Sirius answered quickly before realizing that he had fallen right into her trap.

"Well, I am ready to tell you what I know," Selena said business-like, "but it's going to be a trade. I want to know what's going on. What are you and the twins trying to keep a secret?"

Sirius shook his head, placing his cup on the table. "I can't tell you, Selena."

"If you are planning something that put them in more danger – " she started.

"It's nothing like this," he interrupted her.

"Really?"

"Really."

She looked doubtful. Sirius wanted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her hard, but he understood her concern. "I cannot tell you what it is, Selena, because it's not my secret, but you can be sure that it has nothing to do with your children."

Selena looked him in the eye, and then visibly relaxed. She took her husband's cup and brought it to her lips…only to spill its contents a second later. "Merlin, this is foul!" she gasped and Sirius handed her a glass of water. "He must be more concerned than I thought; otherwise he wouldn't have made it this sweet."

Sirius kept silent. In his opinion, Jean-Paul Lerois was perfectly calm.

Selena must have read his thoughts, because she said, "Yes, he can control himself perfectly, but inside, he's full of concern." She filled another glass of water and drank that, too. "He may not show his feelings like I do, but he loves Noel and Cissy and worries about them just like I do. We both love them."

"It's obvious."

Selena forced herself to stop thinking about Noel going back to Malfoy Manor two days later.

"Linda Carter is a famous surgeon – a Muggle doctor," she explained. "Her first husband was one of the most famous painters of his time. They were in all newspapers – she, Chris Carter, and Winston. The perfect family."

"But not the girl? Lily?"

"She was not born yet. However, Carter really was a great painter – I've always admired his works. They seemed to have it all – the money, the carriers, the ideal family. Then, it all ended in a single day."

"How?"

"A drunken driver hit his car. As far as I can remember, the kid – a college student, I think – did not stop at the red light and crashed into Carter's car. Carter's sister died immediately, and Winston Carter had a series of operations. Chris Carter died a few days later in the hospital." She fell silent. "The girl was very young then. I remember the pictures from the funeral in the newspapers – Linda Carter, holding the baby, with her son at her side. She looked like she would die right there."

"Oh."

Selena nodded. "Yes, very sad. Everything ended in one day. And he was young. He was a phenomenon in the world of arts. A bit of old-fashioned romanticism over the newest tendencies. So many paintings that will never be drawn. And a woman left alone with two children to look after."

"I thought she was divorced."

"She is. Her divorce with her second husband was a nasty one; it was all over the newspapers."

"So, she is single now?"

Selena gave him a sly look. "And you tell me that you are not interested in her."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next day…_

"For Merlin's sake, Arielle, just drink it!"

Pressing her back to the wall behind her bed, Arielle shook her head a few times. "I won't."

"Arielle, if you don't, the wolf is going to rip you apart."

"And if I do, my baby will be damaged irreversibly. No, thanks."

Cane looked at the goblet in his hand and tried not to breathe in the disgusting smell of the potion. "Arielle, it's for your own good. Please, think of your health."

"I don't care about my health right now."

"But I do. Arielle, no matter how hard you try, you can't escape the fact that the baby is not likely to be born even under the best circumstances, which ours aren't. It is doomed even now. The only problem is whether we're going to let it drag you down along with it."

Her hand landed on his cheek with a loud _smack_. Cane did not even try to avoid the strike. "You were supposed to support my decision!" Arielle cried.

"A decision, yes. A decision I would have supported. But this is not a decision, Arielle, it's madness! A suicide mania!"

Her eyes became even darker. She pushed him aside when he tried to hug her. "Well," she snapped, "the maniac wishes to be left alone!"

He held her tighter and after a minute, Arielle stopped struggling and relaxed in his arms, clinging to him. "Are you going to drink it?" he asked after a while.

Arielle shook her head. "No."

When Cane left the room, he felt completely desperate. He met Raymond and Sylvie's eyes and only shook his head to show that he had mot managed to convince Arielle. There were only seven days remaining until the full moon and Arielle firmly refused to take the potion. What would happen in seven – no, six and a half days? Could she even make it out alive? His thoughts led him to another woman who had known what would happen to her and who had not returned home alive. _She knew. She knew, and yet she took me there and met her death, as brave as any Auror. Now, Arielle wants to do the same, but I won't let her, just like how I wouldn't have allowed Elise to sacrifice herself for me if I had known what would happen._

James found him in the library an hour later when he came in to look for some medical books. Cane was sitting on the sofa, a large album opened in front of him. He was looking intensely at the pictures and James noticed how worn he looked. "I just checked on Julian," James said. "He'll be as good as new in a few weeks."

"That's good news. Finally, some good news. Merlin knows that I don't have any such thing today." Cane was still looking at the photos. James examined him closely.

"You are thinking about the woman who died for you."

Cane looked surprised, but then made a gesture to tell him that he could step closer. James looked at the photos, skipping Remus, Morgaine, Cane himself, and looked intensely at the picture of a young woman in a ballet suit. The blond hair and the incredible beauty of the woman told him exactly who she was. At the same time, they reminded him of something distant, but definitely unpleasant. Where had he seen that woman? Where had he seen these smiling blue eyes blazing with hatred and fury? He gave Cane a surprised look. "A Muggle ballet dancer?"

Cane shrugged. "Veelas are known for their dancing," he said. "And she loved it. She found ballet attractive and she liked to create beauty." For some reason, people thought that beautiful people were privileged to die beautifully. Elise certainly had not had this privilege. After a whole life spent in emanating and creating beauty, her death had been the ugliest thing Cane could ever imagine. The mix of horror and fright on her face, the glazed eyes, the mouth, crooked in an awful howl of fear and terror, the body that was falling slowly and gracelessly onto the pavement.

"It was not your fault. Everyone chooses for themselves what is worth dying for."

Cane nodded. "That is what Remus keeps telling me – has been saying it ever since she died." _But it doesn't change a thing because she is still dead. I won't let Arielle make that choice. It's obvious that this is important to her, but to me, it just isn't. She might want the baby enough to die for it – Merlin knows that I would die for the baby too – but I'm not letting her die for it. She's the most important thing to me._

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Later the next night..._

During the long months of his imprisonment in darkness – Merlin, almost two years – Arion's hearing had become so keen that he cold detect the slightest noises in the yard and in the lower floors of the Manor – a skill that was quite useful when he had to be sure that no one would catch him while he was filing his chains. It was a very hard task, especially when his hands were chained, but he did it. He was eased by the fact that the last day was not a day when they brought him food, so he would not be caught by a jailor who could enter and see him filing. He managed to break the chains that were crushing his arms and legs in two, although he could not succeed in removing the magical manacles. Filing the chain over his neck rubbed a part of the skin off, but Arion did not care, as long as he was able to get out.

He tried to make his escape as soon as all noises subsided – he tried to reach the window with a jump, but it was too high. He did it again with the same result. He had to wait for Noel to help him. His friend came. He pushed his head through the narrow window and reached down. Arion raised his chained hands and when Noel caught them, he jumped as high as he could – which was not much, given the state that he was in – to help him with the pulling. Without losing a second, Noel started dragging him out. Halfway to the window, Arion suddenly saw something that changed everything – Antonin Dolohov's wand pointed at Noel, running towards them from the Manor. Arion released Noel's hands ands fell back on the floor on his cell. "Dolohov!" he yelled at Noel to warn him about the danger behind his back.

Noel jumped aside and barely had the time to avoid Dolohov's curse, before it could hit him from behind. Arion saw the curse coming from Noel's wand and sighed with relief.

He was so entranced by the sight of the two duelers that he did not hear the door of his cell opening. The next moment, he was standing face to face with Rodolphus Lestrange, who raised his wand and pointed it at the captive. Arion did not know what happened next.


	28. Things Keep Getting Worse

**Disclaimer: What, do you think that after all those previous disclaimers I'll write a different one? Sorry to disappoint you: things are still the same and I still own nothing.**

Thanks for each and every review of this story.

Chapter 28

_Two hours later…_

Selena was drinking her fourth or fifth coffee for the evening – Sirius had long ago stopped trying to count them. Jean-Paul Lerois was looking straight in front of him, as well as Sylvie. Raymond and Cane were pacing around the room, walking past each other. Remus, looking very exhausted because of the approaching full moon, was trying to read, but he was on the same page since Kingsley and Noel had left. Arielle looked even worse than her uncle – due to the lack of her potion, no doubt. She was sitting silently in the armchair, her long red hair obscuring her face from view, but her nervousness was clear by the way she was constantly changing her pose – from cross-legged to tucking her legs under her, from facing the room to snuggling to the arm-rest. Cissy was looking at her lap, biting her perfect silver-grey manicure. Julian, Morgaine, and Anath were sitting close to each other, holding hands, Julian's black hair looking even darker next to Morgaine's silver tresses. The light of the fire fell onto her, making the disfigured side of her face even uglier, like a face of a monster. From time to time Sirius and James looked at each other, feeling as if they were intruding in the worry of the families and wishing to have followed Linda's example – she had made sure that neither she nor her kids left their rooms tonight. Anyway, it was too late now, and they did not want to attract attention on themselves by leaving.

Arielle looked at the clock. _They should have arrived ages ago_, she thought and tried to hear someone's footsteps.

Yes! Here it was! Someone was walking down the corridor. Everybody looked at the door expectantly, but it was only Bill and Fleur.

"Any news?" Fleur asked, and everyone shook their heads. Fleur sat next to Arielle. She did not try to calm her with false assurances that everything was fine, in fact she did not talk to her at all, and Arielle was grateful for that. She smiled faintly at her friend and Fleur smiled back. 

Finally Kingsley arrived – alone. His face was ashen, with deep cuts on it and he could not stand upright. His wand arm was hanging feebly, its rich dark color replaced by the nasty grey and reddish coloring of burns, but he managed to raise it to stop Raymond and Selena, who had hurried towards him to tend to him. "Everything failed," was the first thing he said.

Raymond and Selena's eyes met. They had felt that, but they had still held some hope. "What happened?" Sylvie asked in a hollow voice.

"We wanted to help Arion escape. Noel had given him a raspier to file his chains off – you know that. We went to Malfoy Manor and Noel broke the ward, according to the plan. I waited for them and waited very long. When they didn't show in time, I waited half an hour longer, assuming that Arion might have not finished with the chains, but when their delay became too long, I tried to penetrate the wards and failed. There was no sound, the wards must have muffled it. Then, they came – the Death Eaters. They burst from the inside and from their yells, I knew that they had captured Noel and were now trying to check whether he was alone or not. They almost got me, but I fought my way out – "

"Captured him?" Jean-Paul Lerois asked sharply. "That means that he must be still alive, right?"

Kingsley shook his head. "I don't know," he said tiredly. "They were yelling something about boys who would soon pay a high price for their impudence, that's all I heard."

Jean-Paul bowed his head. Selena put a hand to her mouth to stop the scream that was rising in her throat. Arielle's nails were dug so deeply in Cane's palm that he felt a sharp pain. Anath's shoulders started shaking. Cissy bit her wrist, hoping that the physical pain would somehow lessen the emotional one. Raymond sighed and reached for his wand to mend Kingsley's arm. Sylvie released the breath that she had not been aware of holding.

"It's not your fault, Kingsley."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next morning…_

"Coffee?"

Linda smiled slightly. "Yes, thank you."

Sirius magicked a steaming cup in front of her and then made another one for himself. "Are your children awake?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Lily is trying to sneak out and explore the house and Winston is trying to stop her."

"She must be very excited of being a witch, huh?" he said, sipping at his coffee tentatively. It was still hot.

"You have no idea," Linda smiled slightly. "It's like a fairy-tale come true."

"Well, that's good." Sirius had suddenly become very serious, "but you'd better watch it: not everything in this house is safe."

"I am fully aware of it," Linda sighed. "But if we're going to stay here for a while, she can't stay imprisoned in our room."

"I did not say that."

The blond woman gave another tired sigh. "I'm sorry we've invaded your house again."

"That's no problem."

She did not seem convinced. "We'll leave as soon as I find a flat and James makes the protective incantations."

"Linda, I'd _like_ you to stay."

"Really?"

He looked at her – the blond hair, the heart-shaped face, the bright blue eyes – and nodded. "Really."

She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "I heard what happened yesterday night," she finally said. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Sirius said softly. "We wanted to save a captive, but we managed only to give them another one."

He stood up. "I'm sorry to leave you, Linda, but we have a meeting to discuss our plans. No, no," he added quickly, when he saw that she was starting to stand up, "stay where you are. It'll be in the living room, not here." He magicked her a jug of coffee, just in case. See you later."

"Bye."

On the threshold, he almost crashed into someone. Winston Carter, Linda's son. Both muttered apologies and Sirius went on his way, while Winston entered the kitchen and sat next to his mother. "Coffee?" Linda asked.

"Yes, thank you." He took a sip of his cup. "It tastes just like our coffee."

Linda grinned. "Yeah, I thought the same thing when I had my first magical cup of this stuff."

"With Black?"

"Well, if it was with James, I'd have probably burned my tongue," she said. "You know how he is."

"Mum, are you sleeping with Sirius Black?"

"What?" Her smile disappeared and her eyes turned into blue ice. "What did you just ask me?"

"You heard me. I want an answer."

"Why should I answer a question that is none of your business?"

"I want to know what's going between the two of you. I have the right to know."

"You certainly don't."

"I said nothing about Abrams and that was a mistake. I won't repeat it. I worry about you and I don't care whether you like it or not. So tell me, unless you'd prefer that I ask him instead?"

"You'll do no such thing, Winston." Her eyes were practically digging holes in his face. He merely shrugged, unimpressed. "When was the last time I asked you who you are sleeping with?"

"When was the last time I married a fortune hunter?"

She clenched her fists. "Don't you dare throwing this into my face! I won't have it!"

"I don't want to throw anything in your face. No matter how angry you are with me, I won't let anyone hurt you like that while I'm around."

"You won't be around for too long," Linda pointed out. "What are you going to do then, Winston? Take detectives to find out who I am sleeping with?"

His eyes narrowed. In this moment, he looked so much like his father that she held her breath. "Don't play wise with me, Mum. You know what I mean. And it isn't just you. Are you ready to risk Lily getting attached to him and then being disappointed if he turns out to be a bastard? What do we know about him? And no, don't tell me that Michael – James – guarantees for him. It's one thing to know something as a friend and quite another, when it comes to the way this someone treats women."

Linda's anger suddenly vanished and she ran a finger through her hair. "Honey, you're so damn smart about some things. How did I manage to do such a great job with you is beyond me – no, it isn't," she corrected herself. "After all, I did manage to teach your father to help me with the household work, didn't I?"

"But as long as I remember, you never managed to teach him to stop muttering about it, didn't you?" Winston grinned. "I'm serious, Mother," he said. "I just don't want you or Lily to get hurt."

She smiled. "Let me ask you this. Have you ever seen me making the same mistake twice?"

"Not so far."

"God, I'm so flattered." She patted his hand. "Now, listen to me. He's an interesting and attractive man and I enjoy his presence. He's not the calm type, but then, neither was your father and we still managed to remain married for twelve years without killing each other – something that I don't intend to do with Sirius Black, even if it turns out that he likes me enough to sleep with me, as you so kindly put it."

"Oh, he does," Winston darkly assured her. "I'm a painter, Mum. I read people."

"And what do you read in him?" Linda asked curiously.

"That he likes you."

"You already said that. What else?"

He gave her a long glance. "That is none of your concern, Mum. I don't talk about other people's feelings just because I can read them."

Linda sighed. Always upright, always trying to respect the others, just like his father. And then, suddenly, she felt a wave of such rage that let her breathless and completely unprepared. _I shouldn't have been here now_, she thought. _Everything is so bloody messed up_. She should have been in her own house, with bare feet and a cup of hand-made coffee in her hand, marveling along with Chris at the fact that magic existed and that their own daughter was a witch. She had stopped thinking about that years ago and now it almost made her fall of her chair: all those things they should have had. They should have stayed awake together for nights, while Lily was teething. They should have scolded her that she should not paint her face with Daddy's oils. They should have celebrated Winston's leaving for the Italian arts school with a crazy party and even crazier sex. They should have had their famous quarrels about every silly thing. They should have taken Lily to the Pyramids, as they had done with Winston when he was five. God, she should not have been here, discussing her sex life – or the lack thereof – with her son. _They've been robbed in so many refined ways, all this because of a drunk kid who should not have been allowed to drive at all._ Linda knew that she should feel at least the tiniest bit of sympathy towards the dead student who had died a few days after her husband, but she couldn't. She just couldn't.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same time…_

"_Enervate_!"

The body lying in front of the fireplace stirred. A few seconds later the long eyelashes fluttered and dazed blue eyes snapped opened and looked around, as if their owner was not sure where he was. The living room was full of people, gathered around the big table, except for the person who was looking calmly at the captive with narrow red eyes.

Noel suddenly stood up, as if the snake next to the red-eyed man had threatened to bite him.

"How dare you!" a tall black-haired woman cried in rage. "My Lord, let me punish the boy for such insolence, such disrespect, such – "

"Leave him be, Bella." Voldemort's voice was calm and he let Noel finish the move, which was slower than usual because of the effect of the curses that had been casted on him the previous night. "Now, boy, on your knees."

The young Frenchman made no move.

"On your knees, blood traitor!" Bellatrix screamed.

"Oh, but we still don't know whether he is a blood traitor or not," Voldemort hissed softly. Her face paled. Paying no attention to her, he turned to the others. "Until now, his life has been determined by his traitorous mother, but now, he might make the right choice himself, not live by the choices of Selena Black – your cousin, Bellatrix."

There was an explosion of malicious laughter around the table. Many people exchanged joyful glances, obviously delighted by Bellatrix' humiliation.

"She is no cousin of mine, My Lord," Bellatrix screamed fiercely. "She lost any right to our family name since she fled from her parents' house."

"And she was very happy to give up her family name and take my father's instead," Noel said loudly, and the Death Eaters stopped laughing and craned their necks to hear him better. He promised to be one of the captives they liked best – the ones who tried to provoke them and who were finally taught their place. "I must say that I understand her – after all, if _I_ had a cousin like you, I would have done the same."

The laughter became even louder. Bellatrix yelled with rage and pulled her wand out, but one look from Voldemort was enough to stop her. "So," he said in the same low voice, "you still have enough courage left, Mr Malfoy."

"I do not answer to this name," Noel said coldly, without challenge in his voice.

Now, the laughter became so deafening that for a moment, he thought that the room would explode. Some of the Death Eaters were thumping their fists on the table and another one was trying to say something between his fits. "He – he – the little traitor does not want – he doesn't – doesn't want your name, Lucius! No, he – he doesn't – he prefers his Muggle – ha-ha-ha!"

Voldemort slowly raised his hand and the laughter stopped, as if cut by a knife. "Noel Lerois," he said slowly. "I know everything about you."

Noel was silent.

"Twenty years old, adopted by the Muggle that your mother chose to replace Lucius with –" There were a few snickers at this, but none too loud. "You've graduated from Beauxbatons and you're now in training for working in the Muggle Relations Department – what a disgrace for the Malfoy family – " New snickers. "You have a twin sister, Cecilia Lerois, who's been courted by the sons of some of the most influential pureblooded families in France, yet she prefers going to a Muggle university. You have a younger brother and a younger sister – an abomination named Lilith."

Noel knew that the best he could do was keep his mouth shut, but there were some things that he simply could not bear. No one could insult his baby sister in front of him. "Shut up!" he yelled.

The Death Eaters were so stunned that they even stopped to whisper among themselves. No one had ever dared to interrupt the Dark Lord.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" Voldemort asked softly.

"Yes, I did."

"And do you realize that you are in no position to make demands?"

The red eyes were burning. Noel barely kept himself from laughing hysterically. He realized that too well! The pain in his ribs, in his head, in his stomach, the blood on his arms and legs were a strong reminder and the fear in his heart even more so. He slowly raised his head and the blue eyes met the red ones. "Give me my wand," he said. "Give me my wand back and we'll see. We'll see."

The Dark Lord was actually smiling. "You're a really brave one," he said in his slow hissing voice. Then, he looked at a point somewhere over Noel's left shoulder. "This boy has more spirit and bravery than you and Draco combined, Lucius. I suppose there is still a hope in the Malfoy line – "

The Death Eaters roared with laughter. "He isn't of the Malfoy line, My Lord," Lucius Malfoy shouted. "His mother lost all his rights, as well as hers, when she ran off."

"Thank God that she did," Noel said. He turned his head slightly and there he was – Lucius Malfoy. Noel's eyes found his empty hand first and the hysterical laughter again threatened to overcome him. "At least, she kept her wand."

He looked at Lucius' face and their gazes met, full of hatred.

"You are friends with Cane Black," Voldemort continued, and suddenly Noel knew what he would say next. "Who's bedding the girl that you desire. The werewolf, Arielle Lupin. What a pity for the Black family."

Noel reverted to his silence, though he could hear someone sharply taking breath behind him.

"You'll make an excellent Death Eater, Noel Lerois. Join me and you can have all that should be yours. This house, the whole Malfoy fortune."

There was an angry hiss behind him, but Noel did not turn around to see who had made it – he was still stunned by the discovery that his biggest fear had come true! And then he suddenly realized that it was not his biggest fear anymore – he had fought it once, so he could do it again.

"There is nothing here that I want," he said.

Voldemort cocked his head to one side. "As strange as it may sound, I believe you," he said and the snake hissed its consent. "And yet, there are some things that you do want. The werewolf girl, for example."

There was a sudden silence in the room. The Death Eaters, the snake, Voldemort – they all seemed to be expecting an answer.

But Noel was still silent.

"Answer me! _Imperio_!"

The powerful compulsion grabbed Noel in his grasp and he instinctively tried to shake it off, but his useless efforts only made Voldemort laugh quietly. "Silly boy. Do you really think you can be my match?"

This was not working. Feeling his mouth already opening to answer Voldemort's question, Noel desperately tried to reach the conception that their Muggle instructor insisted to be the core of their combat training – the nothingness. He tried to empty his mind from all thoughts and sensations, to forget that Voldemort was trying to _Imperius_ him, to forget that there was such a thing as the Imperius Curse. If he forgot about it, it could not affect him, because it wouldn't exist, not really.

Vodemort's scream of rage told him that he had succeeded. Then, another curse followed, and Noel could not fight it. What did nothingness and mind matter, when his body was falling in hundred pieces, his head was burning ad his limbs were trying to disentangle themselves from his torso? Noel screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until finally he had no voice to scream with anymore.

He woke in another room – well, it was not a room at all. His dazed blue eyes turned to one side, then to another, and he sighed softly, the slight move causing him pain. He was lying on a straw-mattress – the only furniture in the cell. Arion was kneeling next to him and his face relaxed, when he saw that Noel was awake. "Don't try to talk," he said hurriedly. "Drink this."

It was the only water they had. Noel sipped at the bottle and closed his eyes. "What -?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange wanted to kill you herself," Arion explained hastily, "but he wants to know how you managed to overcome the _Imperius_ Curse. At least, that's what I've heard of the conversation of the two who brought you here."

Noel sighed again, his head clearer. "So, we're dorm mates again," he said in a poor attempt of humor, and Arion suddenly laughed. "What?"

"Do you remember Professor Calhus?" he asked.

"The Divination teacher?"

"Yeah, she said that one day, you and I would be living under the same roof again, remember?"

Now, it was Noel's time to chuckle weakly, but sincerely. Maybe they could live through their captivity. At least, they wouldn't be alone. "Yeah, she said something like that in our seventh year. Only, I never thought that it would be the roof of prison."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few days later…_

"And for Merlin's sake, no matter what you do, don't show your fear. You'd better try and not be afraid."

Cane silently nodded. Sirius' eyes were worried, but he finished his instructions, "I know it's hard, but you have to try. The she-wolf would sense your fear and that would drive her madder. A highly unwanted reaction."

Cane looked around. Sylvie, Raymond, Sirius, James all stared at him with very serious faces. "We'll be okay," he said and left to join Arielle, who was already in their bedroom, preparing for the transformation.

When he entered, she looked at him and continued combing her hair. Cane went to her, took the brush from her hands and silently started passing it through the red tresses. She was already naked and he looked at her – her white body, her still flat stomach with a piercing on the navel, her unblemished skin, and wondered how she would look like the following morning – the morning after her first transformation without the Wolfsbane Potion.

She was trembling and he hugged her. "Everything will be okay," he said, not quite believing his own words.

Soon, the transformation began. As always, Cane felt sick at the sight of her changing bones, the sudden erupting of the long tail, the convulsions of her arms and legs, accompanied by the anguished mewls and howls. What he was _not_ accustomed to was the change of her eyes, the transformation from a terrified girl to a hungry, vicious predator. And while he was changing to his wolf form to meet her fierce attack, it suddenly occurred to him that despite after all those years with Remus and all the full moons with Arielle, he never knew what a werewolf meant, not really.

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12


	29. No Light Beyond

**Disclaimer: I am happy that Jo created Harry and Co.** **for us. I am miserable, because I am not her.**

Thanks to everyone who left a review.

Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for betaing this chapter.

Chapter 29

_The next afternoon…_

Arielle tried to open her eyes, but failed, as if the effort was almost too much for her. Cane immediately hurried to the bed and looked at her closely. Without saying anything, he took her cold, clammy hand between his palms. The young woman looked dead, her face pale like wax, her lips white from biting them, her hair sticking to her temple and brow and her arms resting lifelessly on the blanket. She was covered in wounds – red, sickening cuts that stood out against the perfect creamy skin of her face, her neck, her arms, and her legs – and so was Cane, although his wounds and bruises had already been healed and all that was left were faint scars that would vanish in a few hours. The swelling of his joints caused by his illness had reduced to some extent, showing that the disease was retreating again. He was just grateful that he had come out of the last night alive – and, which was more important, that she had made it alive. He had never expected that the transformation would be so awful. His eyes scanned her face for any indications that she would wake up.

She made another effort and her eyes slowly opened – huge, darkened with fear and yearning. Their glitter was gone and Cane felt like he was looking into two deep black abysses. The limp hand between his palms suddenly grabbed his fingers and squeezed them with surprising strength. Cane knew what she wanted to ask him. "I'm okay," he told her. "I'm fine."

Her fingers did not release his. "The baby is fine, too," he said. "Your father is sure of that. Actually, of the three of us, you're the one who's in really bad shape. I'll call Uncle Raymond to have a look at you."

"Don't," she said in a croaking voice – the howling and screaming from last night had left her with a sore throat. Cane raised his wand and Summoned a cup of tea. She took a sip and felt the nice warmth almost immediately spreading through her and ease her breathing. She closed her eyes again. Cane dabbed her face with his sleeve. There was a strange expression on her features – feminine somehow turned inwardly to her own soul, and tender, with a childlike helplessness and faith directed to him. Arielle opened her eyes and looked at him with some surprise. There was a slight smile on her face and her voice was soft and slow. "I didn't know the transformation would be this violent. I should have known…don't worry! This is the way it should be! And please, promise me that you'll be here next month, that you'd do anything to make sure that the baby is okay. Please, I want a child, I can bear everything, I'll do my best – "

Cane bit his lip. He had hoped that she would change her mind. Last night's transformation had beaten his worst expectations. The she-wolf had wanted revenge for being subdued all those years and it was a real miracle that Cane had managed to keep her in check without letting her bite and tear her stomach. He was not sure that he would manage it again. What was worse, no matter what Arielle said, he was not sure that she could bear the next eight full moons without inflicting lifelong damage to herself or to him – if she stayed alive, of course. Judging by the looks that he had seen Sirius and James sharing, they had never seen Moony in such a bad state. The fear on Raymond's face while he was treating his daughter was evident. And although there was no permanent damage to Cane himself, the pain in his newly mended ribs did not let him forget that Arielle could be a danger – a very serious threat to everybody, including the baby that she wanted so badly.

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_Three days later…_

Everybody had left. Well, not everybody, but everybody that Lily Carter was interested in, which was basically the same thing. First, Winston had flown to Italy to his arts school. Then, Julian, Morgaine, and Anath, who had been keeping Lily company for the last few days, had gone to their French magical school, while Lily herself not only could not go to Hogwarts, where she obviously belonged – the messes that she had caused while holding the others' wands were firm proof of that – but also to her own Muggle school. Her godfather – she was constantly trying to call him James in her head and not Michael, but it did not work flawlessly – insisted that she was in danger and her mother seemed to believe him, so Lily was forced to stay here, where no one seemed to have time for her. Well, her mother always paid attention to her, but come on, who wanted to spend all their time with their mum? It was not cool. Besides, Linda Carter was not a witch, and Lily wanted to know everything about the magical world. She had brought a heap of books from the library to the room that Sirius had given her after the two other girls had left, and read them like a student before his professional practice examination. Even so, no one could spend the whole day burying their nose in books, especially not a girl who was as vital and energetic as Lily Carter.

The solution was easy – exploring. She was constantly walking through the house and exploring it and the magical things in it, followed by Kreacher's increasing muttering. Her mother often scolded her for being nosy and impolite, but their host, Sirius Black, seemed concerned about Lily's safety only. After a few unpleasant experiences, including sliding down sixty stairs when the staircase suddenly turned into a slide under her feet and a book that tried to tear her fingers apart, Lily had learned to act very carefully during her explorations. Not carefully enough, though, and now Selena Lerois was just applying a potion on her eyes to help them return from purple to their normal, nice blue color.

"Dear Merlin, kid, do you ever stop getting yourself into trouble?"

Lily chose not to answer. "Any news about your son?" she asked instead.

Selena sighed and her face darkened. "No."

"Why do you have to leave?" Lily asked. "I mean, if something happens, how are they going to find you in France to tell you?"

"We have our ways," Selena answered, and handed the mirror to Lily. "Is that the color?"

Lily studied her eyes in the mirror. "No, they should be a little darker."

Again, Selena pointed her wand at Lily and started changing the color of the girl's eyes. "I wish I had a wand of my own," Lily sighed enviously. "It would be great. Why is it that I should be afraid to go and buy one just because my parents aren't magical? It's stupid."

Selena did not say anything and just kept working. Lily went on chattering about all the things she had learned and how much she had to learn yet, and how silly it was that purebloods married their own cousins, and that one day their children would all be idiots and cripples. _And raving lunatics,_ Selena added to herself, thinking about Cousin Bellatrix and her own mother, and how easily she herself could have become one of them. She put herself on autopilot, nodding and humming when necessary, and listening half-heartedly – until Lily said something that grabbed her attention.

She waited until Lily's eyes were the right shade of blue again – azure, actually, just like the eyes of Selena's own daughter – and then went to search for her brother. She found him, typically enough, in Potter and Lupin's company, talking animatedly about something that she could not quite catch. "Madame Lerois," Lupin said, pulling a chair for her. "I didn't know you were still here; I thought you had already left for France."

"I'm leaving in a few minutes," she said. "There was a small situation here that I had to take care of."

"Lily?" James dared and when Selena nodded, he chuckled. "Nothing can keep that goddaughter of mine out of trouble. What did she do this time?"

"Never mind that," Selena replied, "I wanted to discuss something else with you, Sirius."

"I'm listening."

"While I was fixing the kid up, she would not stop chattering about magic, and purebloods, and so on, and then she said something that caught my attention."

"Let's hear it."

"She said that most of the purebloods are not actually pureblood, but are half-bloods who pretended to be pure. She said that there is no way, after all those years, for there to be so many purebloods."

"Well," he shrugged, "she's probably right."

"Of course she is," Selena said impatiently, "but that's not what I meant. Can't you see? Many of the adult wizards still don't understand that and – she's eleven and she knows about magic only from reading books – up until a few days ago, she had no idea that our world existed, yet she can draw correct conclusions on such important issues. Sirius, I don't know whether you realize it or not, but this child is very clever."

"I suppose so," Sirius said, drinking his tea. "And what of it?"

"She doesn't have a wand," Selena said. "I think we may have the one that suits her best."

Sirius looked puzzled. Was Selena trying to mock him? "I don't understand."

"Think of it, Sirius!" she said. "The wand that the Black family has been keeping for hundreds of years – one of our most prized possessions, yet none of us has ever been able to have any use of it. Judging by the amount of books Lily has stored in her room, she might be the one who could use it."

Now, Sirius understood. "I don't think that anything will happen, but let's give it a try, why not? When we were cleaning the house a couple of years ago, I put the wand in my bedroom."

"Good," Selena said business-like, "I was afraid that you might have thrown it away, with all the other reminders of the family."

Sirius shot her a hard glance. He wanted very much to ask her whether she really thought that he was such a big hot-headed idiot, but he already knew the answer to that.

"Kreacher," Selena cried, and the house-elf entered the room with much more enthusiasm than any of the permanent residents of the house had ever seen him.

"Kreacher obeys Miss Selena. What does Young Mistress want?"

Selena told him about the wand, and Kreacher left with a low bow. Suddenly Sirius noticed that the old house-elf was unusually clean and well-groomed. When he thought of it now, Kreacher had been this way ever since they returned from Switzerland. And he was not even muttering about Muggles and blood-traitors. "What the hell did you do to him?" Sirius asked his sister. "I've never been able to get him so tame."

The look that Selena gave him was full of contempt. "Have you ever tried nicety or even decent treatment?" she asked. "That works better than magic, Sirius."

Sirius did not say anything. The truth was that he could have never tolerated the malicious house-elf the way Selena and Regulus had tolerated him. Of course, to _them_, Kreacher had never been malicious. Hell, he had been ready to die for Regulus. Sirius did not doubt that the old elf would have done the same for Selena.

When Lily Carter took the old wand in her hand, everybody gasped. There was no need to make her wave the light wooden stick – as soon as the girl's fingers closed tightly around it, a flame erupted from its tip, followed by soft glow that enveloped the whole wand. Lily took a deep breath of surprise at the newfound awe.

"This is – " She started and stopped, at a loss of words. She had never thought that she could feel so whole and excited and at the same time, quietly delighted, as if some empty space inside her was suddenly filled – a space that she had not known she had been missing until now. She slowly waved the wand, creating a golden veil around her head and bathing everybody in sparkles.

"I knew it. This wand was meant for you," Selena said. "We don't need a wandmaker to tell us that."

"Where did you get it from?" Lily asked, reluctantly lowering the wand to let it settle into a state of quiet.

Selena and Sirius looked at each other. "The wand that you are holding, Lily Carter," he said, "is a wand with a glorious history. It used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw – one of the Founders of Hogwarts and – "

"I know who Rowena Ravenclaw is, I've read about her!" Lily interrupted him, excited. "This is _her_ wand?"

"Yes, an ancient wand which is believed to have all Rowena's power and knowledge engraved into its wood. After laying their hands on it, generations of Blacks have tried to gain control over it and failed. Finally, they decided to leave it to rest, being one of their greatest treasures. It seems that this wand has finally found its new mistress."

"After all those hundreds of years – " Arielle said quietly. "Maybe it's an omen."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few days later…_

Morgaine Lupin's mutilation was one of the main topics at Beauxbatons, second only to Voldemort's actions. When her roommates saw her for the first time, they were so aghast they did not even think of their usual insults or malicious hints. "What on earth – ?" Mimi started, and then stopped and looked aside.

Without saying anything, Morgaine started making her bed, her face expressionless. She had to live with this from now on, so she would never show any weakness in front of the others. The next day, everybody looked at her with disgust, pity, or malice. There were some nasty remarks, mostly coming from girls who used to envy her looks and were now gloating. A few quick flicks of Morgaine's wand convinced everybody to keep their mouths shut, at least in her presence. Julian, Anath, and Andre, on the other side, had made it perfectly clear that they would not tolerate any insults to Morgaine in front of them, so on the surface, everything seemed astonishingly fine. On the surface.

Morgaine herself fought hard not to show any emotion or vulnerability. She attended her classes, did her homework, practiced, went on long walks, worried over her family fighting the Death Eaters, went to bed, and the next day, everything started again. Although she could talk again, she was usually silent and pensive. The torment that she had suffered by the hands of the Death Eaters was not to be easily forgotten. She was sure that the original plan was for Greyback to kill her in the forest and leave her body to be recognized – a demonstration of the way Death Eaters dealt with those who refused to help them. All that was enough to give her nightmares. The necessity to look in her mirror was even worse. Morgaine had never thought about her beauty – she had accepted it as a fact, something that she was born with and that did not deserve a special place in her mind. Now that she had lost it, she started to realize how blessed she had been with her looks. Boys no longer turned their heads after her, girls no longer envied her. Although no one dared to insult her openly, for she was lethal with the wand and her ability of non-verbal magic made her ever more dangerous, she could hear the whispers behind her back – words of horror and pity. To her, pity was the worse option.

"Oh, can't she at least make an effort to make up her face?" she heard Alice asking, while she was entering the Great Hall.

"You take care of your own make-up and leave the others' alone," Morgaine's cousin, Anath, snapped angrily.

Pretending not to have heard anything, Morgaine headed for her House table.

"Really, it's just a simple regard of other people's feelings. We have the right to walk calmly without looking at the grotesque image her face has turned into," Alice insisted, wrinkling her nose.

Anath opened her mouth to raze the little fool to the ground, but Andre Lerois beat her into it. He slammed his fist onto the table and made the others jump. "Don't you _dare_ insult her, Duven! She's infinitely prettier than you will ever be, so close your stupid mouth, because if you don't, I'll do it for you."

At this point, he noticed Morgaine's oncoming and paled slightly, obviously feeling very uncomfortable. Without giving any indication that she had heard a single word of what had been said, Morgaine sat next to her brother and started eating. Only when they were leaving did she stay behind, squeeze Andre's hand and quickly say, "Thank you."

She wanted to pull her hand, but he caught it between his own palms. He seemed unsure. "Do you want to go out with me?" he asked, and with great surprise he saw her eyes filling with sudden rage. Morgaine pulled her hand out of his with such force that she staggered backwards, almost falling on her back.

"I don't need your pity. I'm not that desperate."

He looked at her, his eyes wide. _What does desperation have to do with anything?_ "Morgaine, I just want to go out with you."

"You want to go out with me? _You want to go out with me?_" Her voice was becoming high-pitched and mocking. She deliberately turned to him, so he could have a better look at the awful teeth marks on her cheek, the distorted features, the bloodshot eye, and the curved downwards mouth. "And you expected me to believe you? You had years to show your interest in me and you do it _now_, when I'm looking like something that came out of a children's book of monsters? Forgive me for not believing in your sincerity. How did Julian convince you to do this for me? Or was it Anath? Or were you just feeling generous? Was that it?"

"No, I just – "

But she was not listening to him. "I've never been more humiliated, never in my life! Merlin, and I thought you were a decent guy!"

She turned round and angrily headed for her class. Realizing that they were both late, Andre hurried to the Herbology classroom, wondering what had made her so angry. He had never dared to show his interest in her because he feared that a smart and beautiful girl like her would only laugh at him and now she rejected him, thinking that he pitied her? _Girls,_ he decided, _are really strange._ No matter how hard he tried, he just could not understand what he had done wrong.

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_Two days later…_

It was one of the rare evenings when everything in Grimmauld Place was very quiet. There were only three people in the kitchen – Linda, Sirius, and James. Lily was upstairs with Remus, who had taken it as his duty to teach her basic spells and charms whenever he had the time. Cane and Arielle were upstairs with Cissy, who was renting a flat in London while they were still trying to penetrate the wards of Malfoy Manor again. And Kreacher had hidden somewhere. Tonks had been feeling tired lately, so she rarely left her parents' place. Sirius felt strangely cozy sitting at the table with James while at the other end of the kitchen Linda was sitting on a chair with a book in her lap. Ever since Linda and Lily had been forced to stay here permanently, there had been some slow but irreversible change going on in the house. Until then, the huge house, full of remnants of dark magic and worried wizard and witches going in and out of it, looked like a tomb, disturbed from time to time by thieves. Everybody was walking through it hurriedly, silently, careful not to disturb the others or wake Mrs. Black's portrait. But now there was a child who walked through the rooms, ran down the stairs, passed under the high arches of the halls. Her hair was lit by the sun and she looked even prettier. She sang and laughed aloud, not caring about Kreacher's muttering – which had currently lessened considerably, due to Selena, no doubt – or Mrs. Black's yelling, and the house looked somehow revived and like an actual house and not a dungeon.

In the beginning, Linda had tried to make her daughter behave, but she soon realized that Lily's sunny disposition and curiosity did not disturb the others – that it, in fact, helped them relax – and stopped scolding her. Sirius often wondered how different the two of them were. Lily was naughty and outspoken while Linda was quiet and reserved. She had the gift to make everybody feel calmer around her without doing anything special – though lately, when looking at her golden hair and fine limbs, Sirius felt all but composed. She was just too pretty for him to feel composed.

It was obvious, however, that this evening Linda and James wanted to talk to Sirius – James looked very absent-minded and Linda was pretending to read, but her eyes have been on the same paragraph for the last few minutes. Sirius patiently waited for them to speak, but they did not come to this. There was a sudden crash near the front door against the wall and not even a minute later, a silver she-wolf Patronus entered the kitchen, followed closely by a man Sirius vaguely remembered as Remus' brother in-law.

"I need three passwords for the house," he said without greeting, "I've got three people with me with Dementors and Death Eaters close on us."

James immediately Summoned the wanted documents and all three of them rushed out of the house to be met by at least fifteen Dementors. There was a flow of two constantly multiplying Patronuses – a unicorn and a dog – casted by an old man and a woman, who seemed like they had suffered a horrible car crash; they were all covered in scratches and bruises. As soon as the other three Patronuses erupted from Alain's, James', and Sirius' wands, the two newcomers grabbed the parchments, read them, and tried to visualize the house.

Unsuccessfully.

"Come on!" Alain yelled, "Hurry up!"

They did hurry up, and all six of them entered the house, slamming the door just when a group of Death Eaters Apparated at the other end of Grimmauld Place.

"Merlin, that was a close call!" the woman sighed, and swayed on her feet. James caught her just in time and helped her regain her balance.

"Thanks," she muttered automatically, and he gave her a professional look.

"Sirius, we need a place for the lady to be examined carefully," he said.

"There is no need," she protested.

"There is a big need," James insisted. "Sirius?"

His friend did not hear him. He was looking at Alain Montresorre. There was with a strange expression on his face that James did not like one bit.

"No, really," the woman insisted, "I can take care of myself. I've been worse."

"What's going on?" Cane had heard their voices and came to check on them.

"Who – Hell, what are you doing here?"

"Trouble," Alain answered darkly. "Bad news."

Everybody fell quiet. _Is there any news other than bad at all?_ James thought cynically. "You have to be seen by Healers," he said. "Let's call Raymond or someone else."

Alain Montresorre dismissed James' concern with an impatient wave. "Later. I'm telling you that something's happened."

"Let's go to the kitchen." Sirius had finally snapped out of his trance. "Is Arielle coming?" he turned to his son, and Cane shook his head.

"She just fell asleep. I'm not waking her up. I'll call Remus, though."

In the kitchen, the newcomers were given hot tea to recover as much strength as possible, and Alain made the introductions. "Margo Saint Claire, a historian…my father, Dominic Montresorre."

Margo Saint Claire was somewhere in her early forties and would have been an attractive woman if not for her current state – right now, she looked like she belonged in a refuge for beaten wives. Dominic Montresorre did not look better and neither did Alain, but neither of them seemed to care.

"Voldemort is after the Elder Wand," Alain said without introduction.

"What?" Cane asked.

"The Elder Wand. You know, the one from the fairytales. He believes that it is real – and that Gregorovitch knows where it is." He paused. "Gregorovitch disappeared a few weeks ago."

"What? How do you know? I thought he had retired and lived quietly in his native village." Obviously Cane was more informed about the Continental wandmaker than James or Sirius.

"He did," Dominic confirmed, speaking for a first time. "We were in Bulgaria and talked to the Veelas. They told us some things. Lately, many Death Eaters were seen there, asking questions about Gregorovitch. Torturing and killing people in the process, of course. And Veelas. Someone must have given him the information – it was not exactly a secret. When we got there, there were traces of a fight everywhere. Gregorovitch was nowhere to be seen, but we met a few Death Eaters close nearby. What does it mean, according to you?"

_Trouble,_ James thought, _it means trouble. It means that Voldemort is trying to find a wand immensely more powerful than Harry's. Dear Merlin, if the Elder wand exists and he finds it, what chance does Harry have?_ Lost in his worries, James stopped paying attention to the conversation and looked at the others only when they were already standing up.

"You can have a bath, Miss Saint Claire, while I'm taking care of preparing the rooms for the three of you," Sirius said.

Margo Saint Claire smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Black, I've slept in far worse places than a dusty room. I'll go and see my niece, Arielle, and then I'll have a shower."

"May I join you?" Alain asked, and she smiled.

"Consider yourself invited."

Everybody left the kitchen. Linda took Margo to show her the way to Arielle's room and Cane took the role of Dominic's guide. Sirius looked at Alain and asked, "Can we talk for a while?"

Alain looked surprised, but nodded nonetheless. "Sure, why not?"

He made a step back towards the kitchen, but Sirius shook his head. "No. In my room, so nobody disturbs us."

Alain looked on guard now. When they entered Sirius' bedroom, which was better illuminated than the kitchen, Sirius noticed that Alain was even worse than he had thought. He did not feel sorry for him at all. "Sit down."

Alain did so – although his host did not know it, it was either sitting down or collapsing on the floor. "So?"

"I saw your Patronus," Sirius said. "It was a she-wolf."

"It is," Alain confirmed.

"A she-wolf that I know very well."

So, that was it. Alain almost smirked. _Black finding out after all these years, it's really funny._

No, it was not funny. Not at all.

"Why does your Patronus takes the shape of my wife's Animagus form?"

Alain shrugged. "We used to date once. That was the time when I first re-learned to produce a Patronus."

The suspicion in Sirius' eyes lessened, but did not disappear completely.

"Was that all?"

"Why are you asking me?"

There was a pained expression in the other man's eyes. It lasted only a second, but it was unmistakable. Sirius immediately realized what the answer was. "What happened between you and Angela?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

Alain shrugged. "It's up to you. She's dead, so none of your assumptions can cause her harm. And yet, I'll tell you how it was. You want to know whether we were having an affair? No. Whether I've been in love with her? Yes. Whether she knew it? Yes. Whether she returned my affections? In the beginning, no. Later, yes. She has started to feel something for me, I'm sure of that."

Sirius clenched his fists, his knuckles light under the magical light. He wanted to smash the other man's face with his fists, but that could make Montresorre shut up and he needed to know. "You've used you Veela tricks on her!"

Alain actually laughed at this point, paying no attention to the pain caused by his laughter. "Believe me, Black, if I had used any Veela tricks on her, you would have known. She would have packed up her things, as well as Cane's, and would have come to live with me. She would still be alive."

"You are a scoundrel, Montresorre! You didn't care that you put yourself in the way of a family, as long as you got what you wanted – "

"A family? You call the co-existence that you and Angela had a _family_?" Alain snorted. "Merlin, it was you who shoved Angela into my arms by constantly walking away from that family to be with the Potters – oh, yes, I know all about it," he added, when he saw Sirius' look. "I know how lonely, neglected, unloved, and desperate she felt, because you felt that your family obligations were not to her and Cane, but to James Potter and his family."

Sirius bristled with anger. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from attacking the Frenchman. "And of course, you tried to draw dividends from our problems," he said.

Alain laughed humourlessly, feeling his head ridiculously empty. _If I don't fix myself soon, I'll loose so much blood that I'll need a long recuperation, _he thought absent-mindedly. "Your problems?" he repeated. "They were _her_ problems, you were never there. She had to deal with everything alone – good and bad. I'll never forget how crushed she looked when you didn't show up for your son's birthday. She had just learned that she was pregnant."

Her pregnancy. Sirius had never thought about this. _Angela, what have you done?_

Alain must have read his thoughts. "The baby was yours," he said. "If he were mine, I would have had the right to take her out of the atmosphere that you forced her to live in. Nothing would have stopped me. But she loved you and wanted to try again to win you. Pity that you didn't share her longing."

Sirius bit his lip, feeling the cold rebuke in the other man's calm voice. "You said she had started to love you," he said.

Alain ran his hand over his forehead. He was tired – oh, so tired. He wanted to take a bath, treat his injuries, and sleep, right in that order. He did not want to deal with jealous husbands who were almost twenty years late. "She had," he said. "We shared a past and she knew how much I loved her. You, on the other hand, were constantly neglecting her. With me, she felt attractive and desired, and cared for. It was easy to be attracted to me. You were constantly ruining your chances with her without even realizing it. Even the greatest love could not resist such altitude forever." He suddenly smiled and it was not a pleasant smile. "I was patient. I planned to wait until the birth of your child. I would have been in the hospital. You would have undoubtedly been with your best friend, without even knowing what was going on. Then Angela would have finally realized that there was no hope for the two of you. I would have her by my side. And you would have been free to take care of the Potters, and by the time you realized that you had lost the most important thing in your life, it would have been too late. It would have happen this way if not for the attack that caused her and the baby such harm. Otherwise, there would have been years before you could see what was right in front of you." Another icy smile. "Like father, like son, I suppose." This time, there was a real hatred in those blue eyes. "From what I've heard, the Black men are good at winning classy women. Pity that they don't know how to keep them. All except for Cane, of course, but Cane is his mother's son and he was raised by my sister and Remus, so it's different for him. _He_'ll never sort his priorities wrong. Goodnight to you, Black."

He left and Sirius did not even try to stop him. He remained sitting on his bed, thinking about what Alain had told him. He had the awful feeling that, if not for the Death Eaters' attack, things would have gone just the way the Frenchman said.


	30. A Present Most Ominous

**Disclaimer: Me? Ramzes. No, not JK Rowling. Just poor Ramzes. Poor, as in not owning Harry Potter and the ensuing profits. **

Thank you AGAIN, saiyanwizardgurl, for betaing this for me.

Chapter 30

_A day later..._

"So?"

Noel remained silent.

"Boy." Voldemort's red eyes were fixed on Noel's and the boy barely fought the urge to look away. "You'd better tell me what I want to know. Better here than in the dungeon. In the dungeon you'll break up and you'll tell everything, but I don't want to spill pure blood in vain. Tell me and everything will be over in less than a minute."

His head spinning, his eyes burning, his legs barely holding him up, Noel tried to get the fear out of his system, for after the few days that he had spent here, he already knew that Voldemort could _smell_ his fright. The Dark Lord held all the advantages and Noel did not want to give him another one. Summoning all the self-control that he still possessed, he shook his head. "There is no locket in our house. And there's never been one. My mother prefers necklaces."

There were sudden cold sparkles in Voldemort's eyes. He clapped his hands. The boy who looked so much like Noel entered the room. Voldemort motioned towards Noel and said, "Take him to the dungeon. Make him talk."

Draco Malfoy nodded and a yellow flame erupted from the tip of his wand, pushing Noel forwards. They left like this, Noel trying very hard not to trip, while he was staggering on his unsteady feet.

He immediately realized that they were not heading for the basement. Instead, Malfoy led him through a narrow corridor on the first floor that ended with a door. Noel saw the long staircase on the other side and realized that he had no chance of climbing down it without breaking his neck, but to his surprise he felt a cold hand grabbing him around the middle to help him go down the stairs. Not even once did Malfoy push him or kick him to hurry up. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Noel realized that they were in a dungeon that spread around with no visible end. Malfoy started shoving him forward again with his wand and Noel decided that they had passed under the whole manor through this dungeon until they finally entered a small room, carved into the wall itself. "Here, Lerois," Malfoy turned to him, "no one would ever find you. No one will see you, no one will hear you. You'd better tell him what he wants to know and at least be moved to your former prison. If we leave you here for five days without water and bread, the rats will eat you alive. They'll start from your fingers and ears and you won't have anything to chase them away with. Come on, tell us what we want to know."

He was trying to talk in cold, threatening voice, but it was impossible to miss the fear that kept leaking through his tone. _He's afraid,_ Noel thought. _He is threatening me with the most awful death imaginable and he seems to be scared out of his wits by the mere thought of it._

He kept silent and then said, "Tell you? What do you want me to tell you? I don't know anything about the locket that your Lord wants me to give him."

Malfoy looked at him for a while and the fear in his gray eyes increased. Noel did not look away. _It weird,_ he thought, _how much he looks like me – and Cissy. Oh, how I want her to be here_. Of course, he did not really want her to be here to join him in this nightmare, but he missed her. They were always Noel and Cissy, Cissy and Noel; people said their names like they were one word. Now, he was just Noel. And he had to endure everything on his own – first the Cruciatus and now the rats.

The door of the dungeon creaked sharply when Malfoy left and then again, shortly after, when the blond man that Noel had dueled the night of his capture – one of them, actually – entered, pushing Arion in front of him. Then, he locked the door and his steps trailed away. Noel and Arion were left alone in the darkness.

"What – was that?" Arion finally asked, his voice sounding with a strange echo that made them both shiver.

Noel shrugged. "They seemed convinced that I know something about a locket – do I look like someone who wears lockets?" he joked feebly. They both realized that they could be overheard, so they did not dare talk about certain things and yet, the mere presence of the other cheered them up. Noel told his friend about the rat perspective and Arion dryly asked whether Pettigrew would be the one to eat their ears. Noel laughed, but the truth was that they were both very scared.

The darkness surrounding them was so thick that they felt like it was penetrating through their skin, filling their whole bodies with its frightening dampness and desperation. They felt like they were hanging in the air and did not dare move for fear that any minute they could fall into an abyss. The echo of their voices was great and ominous, so they did not speak much. But soon they both heard a small sound and the darkness withdrew from them, but stayed in the cell and grew even stronger. Arion stretched a tentative hand to catch hold of something – a wall or whatever – to get rid of the feeling that he was hanging above a precipice. Again, the small sound came. "The rats," Noel whispered. Cold shivers went down his spine.

"Are we children?" Arion whispered back. "Are we going to be afraid of mice now?"

Noel stretched a hand in front of him, too, and made a small, bold step. "The wall," he said, his voice barely heard. "Come here."

Arion did so and they both leaned their backs on the freezing, clammy stones. Suddenly, they felt the coldness and shuddered. But then, all this helped them come back to reality, to themselves, they felt their spirits arising and their bravery coming back. This was it; they were imprisoned in a dungeon and they had to endure what came to them. Rats could not do anything to them – they were such small, timid little beasts. _Voldemort will have to wait for me to tell him what happened to his precious locket, _Noel told himself vigorously, _and wait long. I know where the Horcrux is, but I won't tell them anything…_

Next to him, Arion tensed and thumped his foot on the floor – one of the rats had passed right next to him. "I wish there was light here," he muttered. "We could kill them all."

"We shouldn't fall asleep," Noel answered. Sleeping meant sitting on the floor and sitting on the floor meant making themselves easy prey to the rats.

"We won't," Arion said. "So, my sister is really pregnant? I can't believe this."

And they started talking. They talked about small things – Beauxbatons, how frightened they had been at their Sorting, how Noel had melted his cauldron during Potions in their first year, how Cane had impersonated their Transfigurations Professor for a class that the professor had been forced to miss, and the detention that he got when he got caught. They talked about anything, just so they would not fall asleep.

Their feet hurt like hell; they must have been standing for a long time. They could not tell, though – they had lost all sense of time. Now, their shoulders started hurting too, their arms, their waists – they wished they were able to sit down. Their eyes were drooping, so sleepy they were.

They would not sit down, they would not fall asleep!

The first day passed and then the first night. Noel, who had been subjected to the Cruciatus sooner than Arion, was barely able to stand upright – he was leaning against the wall with his whole body and Arion had to hold him under the armpit to not let him slide down to the floor. They were both trembling from weariness, and cold, and hunger.

Then, there were steps coming through the entrance of the dungeon. From under the door there was a faint light and then Arion and Noel saw themselves surrounded by little sharp muzzles and small, shining, fixed eyes. Rats! _They are waiting for us to weaken,_ they both thought. The door opened with the familiar creaking and the little thin tails turned over – the rats ran away, hiding in the holes of the dungeon. Draco Malfoy entered the cell with his wand alight and a big, dark-haired Death Eater on his heels.

"Well, well, are we going to chat?" the dark one asked. "Come on, are you going to be silent again?"

"I have nothing to tell you," Noel said.

"What a bullhead you are. The rats are going to eat you alive, don't you understand? You'll be left here, in the darkness, five, ten more days. You won't come out alive."

"There are no rats in here. It's damp, it's cold, it's dark, but there are no rats," Arion suddenly said.

_Where did this thought come from?_ He was moved by some deep instinct, by the vital energy that he still had left, by his will to hold his end up, to save himself.

"What!" the Death Eater goggled at him. Noel barely kept himself from doing the same. _What is Arion doing?_ The Death Eater motioned for Malfoy to swirl his wand around, to see whether there really were no rats. "Why, it was full of rats in here."

"It might have been full of rats before, but now, there aren't any," Arion said. "We're staying here, we would have felt them if there were any. They must have gone hungry and gone somewhere else."

The Death Eater was shaking his head. "No rats? Not one?"

"Not one," Noel confirmed – he still had no idea what Arion was up to, but he decided to back him up anyway.

The dark-haired Death Eater looked suddenly forlorn and miserable, but then he turned and left the cell. Draco Malfoy was just about to do the same when a slight movement caught the attention of all three of them – one of the rats had just decided to come out of its hole in the wall. Noel and Arion looked at each other with horror, but Malfoy did not call the other back to reveal the captives' deception. In fact, he turned his head, so he would not look at the rat, and left.

A few minutes later, Arion and Noel were both standing in front of Voldemort. The giant snake hissed when she saw them, and Voldemort gave them a cold glance. "I heard that you got lucky with the lack of rats," he said softly. "But I still have some things to hear from Miss Cecilia Lerois, because it is obvious that Noel wouldn't cooperate."

Noel felt his blood freezing. "Don't you dare touch her!" he yelled.

The Death Eaters started laughing. "You haven't learned anything from your stay here, have you, boy?" Voldemort said. "I don't have the time to teach you lessons, but maybe I could use the warning that I'm sending to your sister to make you finally understand. A lesson, yes, that's what both of you need. Draco? Maybe you have an idea?"

Draco Malfoy was definitely shaking now – obviously the need of having to come with a properly cruel punishment was making him sick. Noel could hardly sympathize with him. _Yes, I suppose it comes to upbringing, but hey, my mother was raised in an almost identical family and she did not stay within all that madness and neither did Sirius. At the end, even Regulus had enough sense and bravery to pull aside. If the little wimp is in this situation, it's his own mistake and no one else's. _His eyes moved to Lucius, who was watching his son eagerly, and the thought that he was actually related to him almost made him clench his fists. A fool, that what Lucius Malfoy was. A fool and a loser, and a loser deprived of his wand at that. It was obvious who the leader in the family was – the woman. Being surrounded by strong women – his mother, sister, and grandmother, Noel had immediately recognized the hard vein in Narcissa Malfoy. That made him grateful that she was not the one who had to choose his torture – he was sure that she would come with something far crueler than anything her son could possibly think of.

"Well, Draco?" hissed the soft voice.

The boy was still hesitating and the little blood in his pale pointed face had left. He was looking around, obviously trying to think of something, but he could not. Until his eyes fell on the small man that Noel recognized by his silver arm. Wormtail, the traitor. Draco Malfoy took a deep breath and mumbled something that Noel could not hear.

Voldemort laughed approvingly. "Very well, boy. Come here, Severus."

A sallow-faced man with a large nose stepped forward and Voldemort gave him some instructions. Arion, who was close enough to hear, paled even more. "You can't!" he yelled, trying to break free from the ropes that held him. "No!"

Voldemort waved his wand in Arion's direction and Arion screamed with pain. "My father made a mistake!" he yelled to the sallow-faced man. "Saving your useless life was the biggest mistake he's ever made."

The Death Eaters snickered – everybody knew that during the First War, Severus Snape had been caught by the Aurors, severely wounded and Raymond Lupin, who worked at St. Mungo's, had saved his life despite the common, although never officially admitted practice of letting captured Death Eaters die from their wounds.

Snape's face showed no signs of humiliation. He raised his wand. _I can't scream worse than before, when Voldemort himself held me under the Cruciatus,_ Noel tried to reassure himself.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

And Noel screamed worse than ever before.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few hours later... _

"When are they going to be fit enough for leaving?" Sirius asked, and Remus gave him a pointed glare.

"When they restore their strength enough, Padfoot. Really, what's wrong with you? Margo and Dominic never did anything to you, so why do you want to throw them out?"

_Because they're related to him,_ Sirius thought, _to Alain Montresorre. _ Thank Merlin the Frenchman himself had recovered quickly enough to leave early in the morning, but his father and his fancy lady were in far worse condition than they liked to admit. It was impossible to move them as they were now and Sirius knew it, but the last thing he needed was a reminder of the man who had had – well, almost had an affair with _his _wife. Yet, all he could do was put up with Dominic Montresorre and Margo Saint Claire's presence under his roof and that made him quite moody. Especially with Remus – he was supposed to be his friend and yet he had left him in the dark all those years ago – Sirius had little doubt that Remus knew about Angela's messing with the Frenchman. He always seemed to know everything about her!

"Did you know?" he suddenly asked aloud, almost as a continuation of his previous thoughts.

Remus frowned. He was not a Legilimens and he could not read thoughts, but he was intelligent, a fast thinker and in less than a minute, things became clear in his mind. "I suppose you're asking about Angela and Alain?" he asked cautiously.

James, who was sitting on the sofa next to their armchairs, sharply raised his head. _Angela and Montresorre? I never pictured her as the type to have affairs._

"So, you knew," Sirius stated. "Did everybody know – except for me?"

Remus shook his head. He looked very tired – they all did. "There was nothing to know, Sirius. They worked together on their tasks for the Order and some of Angela's friends suspected that he was a little infatuated with her, but that was all."

"Was it?"

Remus glared at him again. "Did you know your wife so little that you need to ask me that question?"

"I thought I knew her, but that was before I knew that she was seeing this greenhorn behind my back. And I thought you were my friend. A true friend would have told me what was going on, not hidden it from me."

There was some truth in this statement and James was tempted to say so, but he decided it would be better to keep his mouth shut. What was going on now was just between the two of them. No one talked to him. No one even looked at him. Remus' face was calm as usual, but he was meeting Sirius' angry glance with an even angrier one of his own.

"And just when was I supposed to tell you, Sirius? While you were saying 'hi' at the Order meetings and then moving on without as much as a word, as if being in my proximity would have poisoned you with the darkness that you fancied to see inside me? While you were avoiding my Firecalls? While you, James, Lily, and Peter were sitting at Godric's Hollow, discussing all the ways you thought I was betraying you?"

James sunk deeper into the sofa, hoping that neither of them would remember about his presence right now. He had hoped that the matter about their reasons to decide that Remus was the traitor would never be brought up. Of course, he knew why he himself had believed this version, but he did not want to say it aloud. It was something too shameful to even think about.

"That has nothing to do with it!" Sirius bellowed.

"It has everything to do with it. Half of the quarrels that you and Angela had were because of that – because you could never forgive her for her loyalty to me. Because you were unable to convince her that her childhood friend was a traitor and she couldn't convince you that the spiteful werewolf was still the same person he's been ever since you met him." Remus smiled bitterly. "You've got quite the nerve, expecting me to be your friend while you had stopped being mine long ago."

Sirius paled. "That's not true."

"It's entirely true, Sirius, and you know it. And if you look back right now, you'll remember that I did, in fact, warn you. I warned you again and again that you'll ruin your family if you keep behaving like this, but no, you thought you could look after James' family while Angela and Cane would wait faithfully for you to come home."

"Ah, don't bring me into this," James said and immediately wished that he had not. Now Sirius and Remus were both looking at him.

"You've been brought into this from the very beginning, James," Remus snapped. "I kept telling you again and again that you should distance yourself from Sirius at least a bit and let Angela and Cane have him, but you just chose not to believe me. Of course – why should you believe the man – no, the werewolf who was betraying you?"

James opened his mouth to protest, but Remus and Sirius had already returned to their own quarrel.

"Has he ever bedded her?"

"No."

If Remus had expected Sirius to relax at this, he was wrong. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because she would have left you if she had slept with him – she would have done it only if she was completely sure that you and her were a totally lost cause. Which you had almost achieved, I might add. Neglecting them for months, paying no attention to them, keeping your own child like a prisoner in your flat while you were playing with your godson, even forgetting his birthday – that doesn't sound like a husband to me, Sirius. It doesn't sound like a father. You could hardly blame Alain or any other man for trying his luck with Angela – after all, it was not as if he fancied a happily married woman. Because at the end, she wasn't that and if you had been in your home where you belonged, you would have known that."

Sirius' mouth tightened. "You're defending him?"

"No, I'm just telling it like it is. And about him – I'd rather not have your comments about him. We are not only connected by our love for one and the same woman – Elise, in case you are wondering – but we are both considered half-breeds and that, mate, brings people close in a way that very few things can match."

Sirius, eyes flashing angrily, started to answer, but a female scream interrupted him, then another, and then a third one. They were all coming from upstairs. On the stairs, the three men almost bumped into Cane, who was also running up. "That was Cissy," he said, and she screamed again.

Everyone in the house had rushed to the room from where the shrieks were still coming, accompanied by an owl hooting. The three friends bumped into Linda at the door. Fred and George were already inside. Arielle, who a few minutes ago had been talking with Cissy – the blonde had come earlier for the Order meeting – had pressed a hand to her mouth. George leaned over the table and looked at the open box in front of the girls.

"Oh Merlin!" he barely managed to articulate, stepping back. Now he realized why Arielle was trying not to retch.

Kingsley Shacklebolt inspected the contents of the box – two human fingers, bathed in parched blood. There was a note on the bottom and he read it aloud. "Be reasonable, Miss Lerois, or you are the next one."

"Leave, everyone!" James commanded in an authoritative voice, trying to suppress his repulsion at the sight of the box. "She needs to rest."

Meanwhile Cissy had collapsed on a chair. She would not look away from the fingers and would not stop crying. Her face was contorted in pain and disbelief and pale like a sheet of paper, her beauty vanished. She did not want to be touched and did not want anyone coming near her.

Linda ran to her room. When James had brought her here, she had taken some personal items as well as a wide number of Muggle medicines, and now she found the sedatives. She brought them to the crowded room and James injected them to Cissy right through her clothes, there was no other way. When she finally fell asleep, they left Arielle with her and went downstairs for the meeting, but somehow, they could not bring themselves to discuss anything else but what had happened less than an hour ago.

"Barbarians," whispered Charlie Weasley with anger and indignation. He had arrived only a few minutes ago, but had been already informed by his brothers of what had happened. "And they call the Muggles savages."

"An awful tragedy," Tonks whispered, her eyes gleaming with tears. She might not know the boy well, having seen him only a few times, but everybody who had suffered such a maiming could always rely on her sympathy.

Sirius, James, and Remus were looking helplessly at each other, the furious quarrel that had happened earlier completely forgotten. "We have to tell Selena," Sirius said moodily.

"But are we sure that these fingers are Noel's?" Fred asked logically. "I mean, they could be anyone's."

Cane waved his wand at the fingers, magically cleaning the blood from them, and then looked at them closely. "We'll have to get them examined, but I'd say that yes, they are Noel's fingers."

"They are totally losing it," James said. "I mean, Noel is a pure-blood and not some poor Muggle."

"A blood-traitor," Raymond smiled bitterly. It was the first time he spoke – he felt too relieved that it was not his son who had suffered such a cruelty, and revolted with himself for being relieved. "He must have refused to side with them and they used his punishment as a warning for Cecilia. I suppose they think that this little present would scare her out of her wits and make her the way they want her to be. That's just the way my dear friend Lucius thinks." Raymond and Lucius had been in the same year at Hogwarts and had hated each other from the very first to the very last minute – cursing each other, jinxing each other, bringing each other in trouble and competing for everything – from Quidditch to grades. "They've targeted her."

Cane snorted. "They don't know what they've just brought upon their heads," he said. "Cissy might be out of order right now, but when she comes to her senses, _she_ will target _them_. She might not be able to face Voldemort on equal terms, but I don't want to be in poor Lucius' place when she lays her hands on him. She's very talented with the wand – and without one, too."

Here, Fred and George looked at him with sudden curiosity. "What was that thing that she did to me when we first met?" George asked.

Cane almost smiled. "A Muggle martial lock. When the twins were six or seven, they were kidnapped by Muggles for a ransom. Fortunately, their magic manifested itself at the right moment, knocking one of the ravishers on the head with a saucepan and they went to the street, where some passers-by took them to the police. Despite that, their father decided that they should be acquainted with martial arts. They are quite capable, I daresay. If Lucius Malfoy or almost anyone else confronts Cissy, she'll attack him not only with her wand, but with her bare hands, with a good chance of winning."

George grinned. "Not quite the typical pureblooded wife, is she?"

"Merlin help the poor bastard who marries her," Fred declared.

"Why, I think he'll be a happy man." Under the twins' looks, Charlie wriggled in his chair. "I wasn't volunteering for the job," he said. "Just voicing my opinion."

Cane sighed. "Poor Noel," he said. "Whoever did this, they don't want to meet Cissy. Bastards," he said, as if it were a logical end of the phrase.

"They robbed him of the ability to hold a wand," Fred said. "I don't think they'd be so kind to leave his wand arm unscathed."

"No, they wouldn't," Cane agreed absent-mindedly.

"My grandfather will teach him to fight with his left hand," Fleur said confidently. "It will take time but he can do it. And so can Noel. He's young. Strong. Strong-willed. He will succeed. He just needs to stay alive."

Cane nodded. "Everything is not lost for Noel. And neither is it for us."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Three hours later..._

"Tomorrow you're staying here," Arielle said firmly, sitting on the bed next to Cane.

"Arielle – "

"Don't 'Arielle' me! You will stay here and rest and recover or I – I – "

"Yes?" Cane asked lightly. He was lying on the bed almost naked and Arielle was applying some ointment to his chest. His face was now completely free from morphing and it was pale-grey, his dark eyes brightened with pain.

"You need to go to the hospital," she said.

"I thought I ran away from the hospital." Cane's voice was now tired and hoarse due to the effort of using his narrowed throat.

"I mean St. Lazarre's." Arielle was not even flinching at the disgusting smell that was filling the room – now, after the Concealment Charm had been lifted, the smell of Cane's rotting lungs had become even stronger than before, or at least Arielle thought so. Truth be told, she was tired of the constant hiding of Cane's state – no one except the two of them and her father, Raymond, knew that the Stunning curses in July still affected him. There were plenty of charms to conceal the odor of decay that emanated from him and fortunately, his morphing helped him put a healthy, tanned face in front of the others, but his condition was worsening – slowly and steadily. Arielle worried about him, but he still refused to go to a hospital – he hated hospitals. And so, he just let Raymond examine him and give him potions and ointments like the one Arielle was now applying to his chest and neck.

"If you don't stay here and rest, I'll tell everybody that you aren't as healthy as you want them to believe. Then, nobody will take you to missions."

Cane's eyes widened and he gave her a suspicious look. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Just watch me. We're done here, so I'm going to bed."

She recast the charm that made the foul smell coming from his chest disappear and snuggled next to him in bed. In a few minutes they were both already sleeping.

Sirius Black pulled back from the door. His face was very pale. He had not intended to eavesdrop, but the few words that he had heard while walking down the corridor had kept his attention. Walking like an old man, he did not return to his old bedroom that he shared with James. Instead, he came back to the kitchen, took a bottle of Firewhiskey out of the cabinet and took a large gulp.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Four hours later..._

Linda woke up with a sudden startle.

"Be quiet!" Sirius was sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, the wand in his hand throwing a faint light circle around the bed. "I won't do anything to you."

Her heart was beating so fast that she would not say a word – he had really startled her. "You already did!" she replied sharply. "You scared me to death. Turn on the lights."

"No."

"I can't see you. Turn it on!" She did not understand what was going on, but she did not like it one bit – it scared her. What the hell was Sirius Black thinking?

"I don't want you to see me." He slowly touched her shoulder and she realized that the shoulder-strap must have come down while she had been sleeping.

"Did you drink much?" she asked.

"Just as much as I needed. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been here."

She pushed his hand aside and wrapped the covering tighter around herself. "Go to bed. You'll feel better tomorrow."

"Oh yes, tomorrow there will be no cut fingers, no hysterics, no angry friends, and no illnesses," Sirius agreed obediently. "At least, I hope there won't be any."

"What brings you here?"

"Sheer madness." There was surprise in his voice. "I thought I've already told you that?"

She blinked. _Where the hell is James when you need him_? Of course, she knew that even if he woke up and noticed the absence of his friend from the room, it would never occur to him to look for him in her room. "Go to your room."

"No. I already told you, I want something mad."

"And what would that be?"

Linda decided that the more she agreed with him, the sooner he would get out of her room, but his next words stunned her speechless. "I want a child from you."

She froze as she was, not sure that she had heard him right.

"That's why I decided to have a drink before I came here – well, it was one of the reasons, Selena being the other one. I went to her home earlier, to give her the news and she – they – they didn't take it well."

_Of course they did not_. If something like that had happened to her own children, Linda was sure that she would have gone mad. The news about Noel Lerois' chopped fingers, received by his devastated sister, had already been announced by the Potterwatch – the examination had proved that they were really his.

"Naturally, it is not easy to ask a woman to carry a child for me," Sirius continued. "I've got my reserves because we are in the middle of a bloody war and no one knows whether we – or it – will survive. There is even something more – getting pregnant would seal your fate once and for all, being a mother of a filthy half-blood, you know."

_That must be a bizarre dream. It can't be anything else._ "Where did this idea come from?"

Even in the faint light coming from the tip of his wand, she saw that Sirius' eyes were shining – too brightly. "I need a chance. I want a child so I can prove that I can be a good father, you know. I won't let this baby down – I won't leave either it or you alone for a minute and no one will Crucio it, and it will be born healthy and strong, and it will be ours – yours and mine, and it won't want people other than us – not Remus, not anyone. And when it gets sick, it won't hide it from us."

At the end of this speech, she found the answer that she had been looking for. _He must have realized that Cane is still very, very ill._ Oh, the boy concealed it very well, but he could not deceive her – she was a professional, after all.

"Well, ask another woman to do that for you. I am not a brood-mare!"

"I want a child with you. You are smart and beautiful, and I've seen you with your children. You're a good mother."

"And too old for giving birth," Linda reminded him, pushing him aside from her bed. "Now, go to your room."

"I knew that that would be your answer. And never mind, even if you say yes, I am too drunk to leave a good impression."

"Too true."

Linda waited for him to stand up, but he did not. Finally, she realized that he had fallen asleep. With a muffled curse, she disentangled herself from the sheets, put her dressing gown on and went to his room. "James! Michael – James, wake up!"

"Lind?" he said sleepily. "What's going on?"

"Sirius. He's sleeping in my bed."

James looked at her with bleary eyes. "Sirius? In your bed?"

She tugged him by the hand. "Yes, he got drunk and invited himself in, and I need you to get him out!"

"Oh."

She gave him a venomous glare. "Don't say 'oh!' He just came in and scared me out of my wits, suggested that I bear him a child, and then just fell asleep in my bed."

James stood up and Linda turned aside to let him dress.

"You must have had a busy evening," he said.

"Just get your friend out of my room."

James did so, Levitating Sirius to their room, and Linda was finally allowed to have her rest. "Everything is ridiculous," she muttered and closed her eyes, snuggling into the pillow, "everything is so ridiculous."


	31. A Forthcoming Battle

**Disclaimer: The usual one. I sadly admit that I do not own either Jo's talent or her characters.**

_Thank you, __**Jackline**__, __**saiyanwizardgurl**__, and __**SOR4**__, for your reviews._

Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for editing this.

Chapter 31

_The next day…_

Sirius woke up with the most awful headache ever. He opened his eyes and then groaned and closed them again because the sunrays tore at them like daggers.

"Oh no, this won't do," he heard a sickeningly familiar voice. "Get up!"

Sirius did not get up. "Go away, Prongs," he groaned.

Of course, he had not expected his friend to oblige – after all, James was just as stubborn as Sirius himself. Anyway, he had not expected the wave of water that hit him in the face, either. Cursing, he disentangled himself from the sheets and jumped from the bed.

"James, are you mad?"

His friend grinned at him and suddenly, he did not look like James Potter the serious adult, but like Prongs the Hogwarts' troublemaker. "I learned this way of waking drunkards from the Muggles and I've always found it quite useful."

"I'll kill you, James. Just wait until my head clears up and then I'll kill you."

Still grinning mischievously, James waved his wand and Sirius suddenly found his head completely free of headache. He was just about to feel happy because of this, when a memory from the last night came to him – golden hair and a bare shoulder, and a voice that was saying 'I am not a brood-mare!' Sirius groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh Merlin, James! Tell me that I didn't do that."

"What, going drunk in Linda's bed and trying to convince her to bear you a child?" James asked.

"Oh no! You mean I really did it?"

James did not answer.

"Is she angry?"

James shook his head and started inspecting his wand. "I don't think so. She attributed all your offers to your drunken state."

Sirius started dressing. "So I have to repeat the offer to make her start considering it?"

James looked at him, baffled. "You mean – you were serious about that?"

Sirius nodded, buttoned his jean, and reached for the hairbrush.

"But why?"

In this moment, Sirius made a very important discovery. "I like her," he said, "that's why."

There was a very funny expression on James' face. "Yes, I've suspected it for a while," he said and left the room, leaving Sirius to stay there with a hairbrush in his hand, stunned by his realization.

A few minutes later, the dog Animagus found the woman who had lately invaded his thoughts, sitting in the kitchen with a Muggle magazine. There was a steaming jug of coffee in front of her and its smell mingled with the scent of some flowers. At first, Sirius thought it was just her perfume, but then saw that there was a small vase with violets on one of the shelves. Violets – so plain and lovely. He could not remember any flowers in this house other than roses – big white roses. His mother had found something dignified in them. Sirius himself found that white roses had no life in them, as well as no scent. He liked red roses – they were bright and had a rich smell and made him think of sunny summer days – and Angela. She had loved them.

Linda looked up at him and smiled. "What do you want?" she asked, gesturing at the jug of coffee and the other one, with tea, on the mantel.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear last night." He saw her eyes widening and knew that she had expected him to not remember anything. Her mouth opened and he raised a hand to stop her from answering. "Don't be afraid. I can control myself. I won't drag you to my bed, I won't make you a child against your will, and I certainly won't give you a love potion." He smiled ironically. "Not today, at least. Tomorrow, things can change, who knows?"

Linda practically missed the last part because she was too amazed by the news that even sober, he seemed to go on with his unbelievable idea. "Are you mad?"

Sirius grinned at her. "See, I knew you liked me!"

She blinked. "I think you are mad, so that means I like you?"

Sirius nodded energetically. "Yes."

Linda poured herself a new cup of coffee. "You are unbelievable," she said finally, without the slightest hint of a smile in her voice.

"No," Sirius explained gravely, "the only woman who's ever told me that I was mad was Angela, and by the time she said it she had already started to like me."

Now, Linda officially lost the ground under her feet. "I don't think I want to hear what she called you when she still hadn't started liking you," she muttered.

Sirius told her nonetheless. "A bastard," he explained helpfully. "A heartless savage who had more instincts than brains and they were all wrong!" He beamed at her.

"What a wonderful feeling for her husband to be," Linda could not help but say.

"Yeah, isn't it?" Then, he suddenly became serious. "I really meant what I said last night," he said. "I really want a child with you."

She looked at him, as if she was wondering. Her face softened. "Yes, I see that you do," she said. "Now, I'll be as honest with you as you are with me. I won't do that. There are too many reasons that stop me and anyway, even if I wanted too, I am too old to give birth. You were not the only one who was serious last night."

Sirius laughed and took a seat across her, so he could have a better look at her creamy skin, blue eyes and soft, full lips. "Come on, you are my age and I don't consider myself exactly ancient."

Linda laughed. "I am not your age, Sirius Black. I am years older. I am forty-two."

He blinked and started examining her closely. "You don't look like it."

She giggled. "You must look at me when I'm coming home after two shifts in the hospital. I look any year of my age and then some."

"Linda – "

"Get out of here!"

After the ominous package from the last day, everybody in the house had developed something like an instinct that reacted at every roar. Linda and Sirius ran up the stairs and met with Tonks, who was already at the door of the room where the sound had come from.

With a sickening feeling, Sirius realized that it was the room that he had not entered for more than two years – the same room where Julian had touched a flask that had sent him under the Cruciatus Curse. He pushed the door opened and the first thing that he saw was the portrait of the Founders – Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. The first three of them were trying to calm Salazar down, but he seemed to have lost him mind – he kept growling and waving fisted arms at the opposite end of the room, where Lily had pressed her back against the wall. She looked dumbfounded with fear, her eyes wide and her face paler than usual. She seemed paralyzed at the hatred that was pouring over her from the dark eyes of the man in the portrait. Sirius recognized the words "filthy Muggle," "cursed," and "shame of our world."

"Oh my goodness!" Linda exclaimed, running to her daughter and shaking her quite violently. Her movement attracted the attention of Rowena Ravenclaw, who looked at her with horror and cried, "Get out!"

Linda paid no attention to her and slapped Lily's face to make her snap out of her state of fascinated horror, but now Godric threw a look at her and took a sharp, hissing breath. "Take her out," he yelled at Sirius. "Take the woman out!"

While Sirius was still trying to comprehend what was going on, Salazar Slytherin's eyes fell on Linda and it turned out that all his shouts and waving had been nothing compared to the roar that he gave now. "YOU!" he bellowed. "Bloody Muggle, how dare you, it's because of the likes of you that everything went wrong – "

He was shouting at the top of his lungs, his face was red and disfigured with hatred and there was saliva flowing out of his mouth that would have surely drenched Linda through her clothes if Slytherin was a living man and not a painting on the wall.

"For God's sake, Salazar, stop it!" Godric shouted. "This is not her and you know that!" He turned to Sirius. "Get the woman out of here," he hissed. "Send her away!"

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell is going on here? Is someone going to explain?"

"Just get her out and then we'll talk," Rowena said as calmly as she could under the current circumstances. Sirius barely heard her over Salazar's vicious shouts.

Linda must have realized that her presence made things worse, because she squeezed her daughter's hand and led her to the door. A second later, Sirius followed them to the corridor where everyone who was at the house had gathered.

The distance from the picture helped Lily calm her nerves. She took a deep breath and said, "Well, I suppose I know where all that hatred for Muggles came from."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few hours later..._

Sirius cautiously set the door ajar and relaxed. He saw that Salazar Slytherin was absent from the picture. He now fully entered the room and nodded to Linda that she might follow.

"What was that for?" he asked, looking at the three Founders.

"Who is she?" Rowena asked instead, looking at Linda with deep concentration. The Muggle woman returned her glance with something like challenge.

"Just a woman," Sirius said. "A woman who did nothing to deserve the fury that your friend descended on her," he added sharply. "Why the hell did he come down on them like that?"

"It's a long story," Helga replied.

"I have the time," Sirius said . "I also have a knife, in case our little chat turns out to be not informative enough," he elaborated.

Godric, in front of Sirius, laughed. Linda, behind him, did the same. Three minutes later, Sirius and Linda were sitting on two sofas and listening to Rowena's calm, melodious voice that was explaining what had happened before and the real reason for Slytherin's leaving the school they all had put so much effort and enthusiasm into.

"From the very beginning, each one of us had his ideas about what Hogwarts should be like," she started. "Helga believed in working hard, Godric thought that bravery could help a wizard or a witch through everything, and I put my hopes on thirst of knowledge." Rowena sighed. "Salazar wanted to preserve magic only for children who descended from old wizard families, since the very beginning."

_Oh yes, I bet he did. I think we all know it,_ Sirius thought.

"But back then, he was acting more out of concern for our safety than anything else," Rowena continued. "In those days, being different meant being avoided, targeted, and often killed. There were too many wizards and witches, hunted like animals and killed by their own neighbors and friends, who were afraid of their power that they did not understand. Salazar thought that keeping our world in secret was the best way to protect ourselves, and so he tried to ignore Muggle-borns."

"Why am I not surprised?" Sirius muttered, and Rowena gave him a sharp glance.

"He was not willing to destroy Muggles," she said. "Right then, he didn't hate them with the legendary hatred that you all seem to believe that he harbored for them."

"Right then?" Linda spoke for first time. "That means that he really started hating them later."

Rowena nodded. "It began years later. His son saw a young woman, a virgin of great beauty and virtue. He fell in love with her the moment he met her." She looked at Linda and smiled. "Golden hair and blue eyes that seemed made of ice, she was that kind of girl. He was enchanted by that face, your face."

Linda blinked. "What do you mean?"

"She looked exactly like you – and your daughter. The girl who came here first, the girl who has my wand, she's your daughter, isn't she?"

"Lily," Linda smiled.

Rowena sighed. "You must be very proud of her," she said and there was a somewhat sad expression written on her face. Linda noticed that.

"You were talking about the blond girl," she said, trying to change the subject.

"Ah, yes. As I said, he fell in love with her the moment he saw her." An impish smile suddenly illuminated her face, making her look more like an excited teenager than the brightest witch of her age. "Salazar went mad, of course. We could hear him shouting from six floors and two towers. But the boy was just as stubborn as he himself was and finally, he gave up. So, the girl was brought to our world – to Hogwarts."

"You kidnapped her?" Linda interrupted.

"We could have easily done it," Helga spoke. "He could have taken her by force, or by giving her a love potion. But true love cannot be stolen – it must be a free choice. And he wanted his feelings to be requited."

"Were they?"

"The girl fell in love with him and chose to leave her world behind and live with him – with us. At Hogwarts. It was accessible for the Muggles then, the only condition was that they should be brought there by a wizard or a witch."

"I never knew that." Sirius was amazed.

"And how did _he_ take this marriage?" Linda inquired. "From what I saw, he must have done the poor girl's life a pure hell on earth!"

Both witches nodded. "In the very beginning, yes, he did. He was disgusted and sick that his son married a Muggle, but with time, he accepted her, although quite grudgingly."

Linda frowned. Something in this story did not fit. "But what went wrong?" she asked. "Why did her father in-law start hating her so much that he started hating all Muggles? That's why he started yelling at us, isn't it? Because we – Lily and I – look like her."

Rowena Ravenclaw slowly nodded. Her eyes became distant, turned to something long gone. "Helga said that the maid left her world for ours, but that wasn't exactly true. She still went to the Muggle world from time to time to see her family. And then one day, when she was carrying a child, her father fell ill and the Muggle healers could not help him, so she asked her husband to cure him with his magic. Of course, he agreed and the man lived, but some of the villagers saw the boy doing magic."

She fell silent. With a sickening feeling, Sirius realized what must have happened. Linda had no idea, though. "And then what?" she asked.

"Fire," Godric Gryffindor said grimly. "Clubs. Stones. They were terrified of what the boy could do, so they took measures to protect themselves against what they called his 'evil.'"

"Oh my goodness," Linda whispered. "They killed them?"

Rowena and Helga looked too sad to answer, so it was Godric who provided the reply. "The boy's body was almost unrecognizable when we found it, and so was the girl, although she was alive – barely alive, I must say."

"And that was when Salazar Slytherin started hating the Muggles and the Muggle-borns with passion," Sirius stated.

"Yes," Helga said. "He was convinced that nothing would have happened if not for the Muggle girl. And that conviction became an obsession."

"Oh."

"What happened to her?" Linda asked. "The girl."

"She committed suicide," Rowena said, her face tout and very sad. "She could not live knowing that she was the reason for her husband's death. And I suppose she felt that her own life had ended with his."

That was too much for Linda, who suddenly remembered herself eleven years earlier, young, helpless, and alone, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom with the small pills on her palm. If the baby had not started crying, she would have probably taken them and fell asleep. Only without waking. She remembered how she had felt back then – just like Rowena had described, as if her own life had ended.

"Excuse me," she muttered and left the room hurriedly.

Sirius did not dare to follow her, but less than an hour later, he heard her voice from the stairs while she was talking to Arielle. Then, she entered the kitchen and there was no grief in her face – she looked calm, her eyes were not even red.

"How are you?" Sirius asked, and Linda shrugged.

"I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

He hesitated, not sure whether to say it or not. "Well, you looked quite moved by the story we heard."

Linda sat at the table and looked at the fireplace. "It was a deeply tragic story."

"Indeed."

There was long silence. Linda was looking at the flames, and Sirius was looking at her.

"Have you ever been in love?"

She shot him a brief glance of surprise and then her expression softened. "A long time ago. I was very young."

"What happened?"

"I married him. Chris, my first husband…and if he hadn't died in a car crash, I would still be in love."

"And your second husband? I heard he was a real bastard."

"You've heard right," she answered briefly. Apparently, she had no desire to talk about her second marriage.

Again, Sirius looked at her. It was almost dark and they had not bothered to amplify the lighting, so the soft twilight gave the room a cozy atmosphere. Linda's profile was clearly outlined against the fireplace and Sirius again noticed her delicate facial features. She looked brittle and fragile like a bird, but he already knew that she was anything but that. "It's strange, isn't it? The woman who caused it all looked just like you."

Linda gave him a sharp glance. "She _didn't_ cause it all, if you don't mind."

"Yes, you're right; I didn't mean it like that. Still, it is strange. And the thought that she committed suicide – what kind of woman would do such a thing?"

"A woman in love."

"A weak person," Sirius corrected her.

"You're too quick in giving judgments," Linda said. "Love changes people, you know."

"Did it change you?" Sirius asked curiously.

She started twisting her earring as if she was thinking over the question. Finally, she smiled slightly. "No, I don't think so. He's always been a part of my life, even before we started dating. I've always been me and he's been changing me in subtle ways ever since I was born. I suppose that helped build my character."

"Oh. You've grown up together?"

This time, Linda grinned. "I've known this woman since I was two, so I suppose I'd better stay with her and see what person she will turn into."

"What?"

"That's what Chris always said," she explained, "after he proposed to me."

Sirius laughed. He had the feeling that he would have liked Christopher Carter. James always spoke highly of him – he said that Chris and Linda were the first people who had been willing to become his friends when he woke up with no past and no memories. "Is it true that Winston and your husband snuck a dog in the hospital when James was a patient there?"

Linda groaned, but she was grinning. "Don't remind me!" she said. "Winston I can understand, he thought that I had hidden some kind of monster in the hospital room, so he had to check, but I'll never, ever know what possessed his father to let him come into the foyer with a big black mutt."

"Hey, be careful here! I'm taking this as a personal insult! What do you have against big black dogs?" He changed and gave her puppy eyes. By the look she gave him, he decided that even if Sirius had no chance to woo Linda, Padfoot's perspective was more promising.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next afternoon…_

Sirius saw the Patronus while he was coming back home from a not too friendly meeting with a few Death Eaters. With a loud curse, he gave up his decision to walk a bit to clear his head and Apparated straight to the front stairs of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He knew for sure that a Patronus without its master around always meant trouble. He and the silver ounce arrived in the kitchen at the same time and Sirius saw the large animal landing right in front of Margo Saint Claire, his guest, who he could not wait to get rid of, and spoke in a deep voice of a young man." A group of eighteen is going for the Veelas this night, after midnight. He knows where exactly they are. He thinks that they are hiding Gregorovitch."

The Patronus melted in the air and Sirius swore aloud. He then looked at Margo, ready to apologize, but she was busy swearing herself. Sirius was astounded at the invectives that were pouring out of her pretty mouth – she could make every Auror blush!

Then, Margo jumped up and looked at Dominic Montresorre, who was the only one present in the kitchen except for Sirius. "We have to warn them immediately! Do you have any idea where Alain might be?" she asked.

"No. You mean that even you don't know what he has in his mind?" The old man looked worried. "We might not find him in time."

Margo was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, swaying at each few steps.

"I'll warn Vivienne," Dominic said, and Margo hurriedly waved a hand.

"No, no, stay where you are. I'll Firecall her."

Unfortunately, all she found was a house elf who had no idea where his mistress was and when she would be back.

"We'll have to go to Bulgaria, there is no other way to contact the Veelas," Margo said as he looked at Sirius. "Will you and your friends join us for meeting the Death Eaters?"

"Who sent this Patronus?" he asked.

"Never mind. Will you come with us?" she repeated.

Sirius hesitated. Yes, he would gladly accept the chance to meet a few Death Eaters, but should everyone risk their lives just to protect the Veelas? Even thinking that, he knew that he resented not the Veelas themselves, but the fact that they were related to Alain Montresorre. "Of course. I'll talk to the others."

"Do it quickly," Margo warned, "we'll have to use Apparition three times and I still don't know where exactly to find the Veelas."

"I'll show you the way when we are in Bulgaria," Dominic Montresorre said.

"You are staying here," Margo and Sirius said at the same time. The man was just too badly injured to Apparate wherever it was and too alone to lead the way. Those damages would be too hard even for a young man and Dominic was at least sixty.

"I am not," he said, but even then he knew that his presence would only burden them because he would probably lose conscience by the mere effort of Apparating.

Margo and Sirius looked at each other. "You mean that Montresorre has never taken you there?" Sirius inquired and Margo bristled with anger, recognizing the biting edge in his voice.

But now really was not the time. "Cane," she suddenly said.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"He's been there many times with Elise. He will know how exactly to find them. So will Remus, of course, but as long as I know, he isn't here, and we don't have the time to search for him."

Sirius sighed. He was not at all fascinated by the idea of Cane engaging in a hard journey and even less fascinated by the idea of him being dragged in the middle of a battle now, when he knew that he was still ill, but what other choice did they have? He was the only one who could lead them to the Veelas.

While everyone – James, Sirius, Margo, the Weasley twins, and Cissy, who happened to be at Grimmauld Place at the moment – was making some hasty preparations; Cane and Arielle even found time for a heated argument about whether Arielle should join the group or not.

"You aren't going anywhere," Cane said in a firm voice. "Did you forget that you are pregnant?"

"Of course I didn't!" Arielle replied coldly. "I don't see what it has to do with anything. I won't take part in a battle or something like that, I just want to be near you, I'll stay in the forest – "

"Yeah, yeah," Cane snorted. "Talk this bullshit to someone who would believe you, Arielle, I know you and I don't believe a single word that is coming out of your lying mouth – "

She started throwing some clothes in a small bag. Cane snapped it out of her hands and threw it unceremoniously on the bed. "You won't need them because you aren't coming."

Her eyes shot daggers at him. "Don't you try to tell me what to do, Cane Black! I'm a full-grown woman and I'm older than you – "

"Yes, by nine months," he spat. "Listen to me, little fool, I don't care how old you are, I won't let you put yourself in danger like this. You wanted this baby and now you are going to stay here and take care of it – "

She started changing her robe with a blouse and trousers that were far more comfortable for traveling. "I wanted you and me to have a baby, Cane! I have no intention of becoming a single mother in case you decide to show how brave you are. I am not the one who has trouble breathing! No, no, I am coming and that's it!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard. "For Merlin's sake, girl, do you hear yourself? Participating in a battle while you're pregnant! Are you mad or you just want to give birth to a damaged baby – like Julian?"

She slapped him and furiously tried to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. "How dare you!" she cried.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you behave like this?"

"You are ill!" Arielle shouted. "If you think I'm going to let you go there and fight the Death Eaters, when even the slightest curse may have Merlin knows what effect on you, you are mistaken. We are a good team and I'm coming with you. I'll be watching your back and you'll be watching mine."

"No." Cane had suddenly composed himself and his voice sounded even but firm.

Arielle's tone matched his. "Yes. Nothing will happen to me. Don't forget, I am good at Defence, I know all tricks by my mother, the Auror, I am young and lithe, and – "

"And?" Cane prompted.

Arielle's face softened and she looked him in the eye with a slight smile. "I'll be with you," she said. "We know each other's movements as if they were our own, we're a great team and – '

She kissed him. "Whatever happens, happens to the two of us."

"The three," Cane corrected her and sighed in resignation.

"Yes. The three of us."

In fact, Arielle was not as brave as she was pretending to be. The thought of losing her baby – in this early stage of her pregnancy, almost any harm to her would result in a miscarriage – was almost unbearable. However, the thought of something happening to Cane without her being there was completely unbearable. She did not want a child – she wanted Cane's child. And she wanted to bring it up with Cane. And if she had to make a choice, her choice would be Cane.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Three hours later…_

"I can't go on – " Cissy moaned quietly. She stepped aside and stopped breathlessly on the steepening path.

Margo did not have the strength even to utter something. Her heart was beating with rapid strokes, there was a hot stream of blood filling her ears and her legs threatened to fail her.

Cane, who was leading the way, shook his head. "You mustn't stop now," he said. "If you do, you'll never have the strength to continue."

Cissy sighed and resumed walking. George seized her arm to help her.

"I don't understand why we can't just Apparate there," James groaned. The long climbing had drained a lot of his strength, too.

Without stopping to look at him, Cane explained over his shoulder, "Because twenty years ago, the Veelas convinced the Ministry to make the rout magic-proof – for human magic, at least. The only way we can reach them here in this mountain is walking."

That was just what he had told them before they left Grimmauld Place. Sirius's eyes, accustomed to the darkness, did not leave Cane's form not for a moment. He was so ill, yet he walked with visibly less difficulties than the rest of them. He had said that it was because he had come here many times before with Elise and that he was accustomed to the hard route. He even managed to carry Arielle in his arms from time to time when she got tired. Not that it happened often – Arielle seemed to have incredible physical stamina, despite the problems, caused by her lycanthropy and her pregnancy.

"Keep going just a bit longer," Cane encouraged them, "we are almost there."

And they really reached the ridge in only a few minutes. Everybody sat on the ground under the old trees to rest for a while, and then they all looked at Cane. "What are we going to do now?" Fred asked.

"We'll call them," Cane answered.

"How?"

"Like this," the young Metamorphmagus answered and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Michel! My old friend, Veela, tireless wanderer, come to me!"

He fell silent and listened. Nothing happened. He cried again and again, and after a while, he decided that he must have been heard. In front of the newcomers' eyes, the trees started moving, but not by the wind. It was like some invisible force was insinuating itself between their trunks. A few minutes later, a fair figure appeared in the darkness – a young man in white shirt and trousers, with soft shoes. Such light clothes in the winter cold! Only that it wasn't cold anymore.

"Seasons don't matter in Veelas' realms," Arielle explained in whisper.

The man was coming nearer and nearer and when he stood in front of them, the newcomers realized that he was not at all as young as they had thought previously. He must be well over thirty, muscular, but too lean. But he was handsome, with the delicate light handsomeness that screamed 'Veela' to anybody who was acquainted with those things. His bright blue eyes stopped on Cane, but it was Margo he approached and took her hand to his lips. "_Welcome, Margo_," he said in French. "_Hello, Cane_." And he looked at Margo again. "_Where is Alain? Isn't he with you_?"

"_No_," she said. "_You are in danger, Michel – all of you. The Dark Lord believes that you are hiding Gregorovitch among you and Death Eaters will come for him this night_."

His face tightened. "_The old man isn't with us."_

"_I know that, but the Dark Lord doesn't_. _There will be an attack this night. We came to warn you and help you repulse it."_

"_When?"_

"_After midnight."_

"_That's good; we still have the time to prepare." _He turned to the others, deliberately avoiding looking at James who felt angry. He was fed up with this attitude from Montresorre family – Michel's father, brother, Margo and even her sister Sylvie who had been friendly enough years ago now acted as if he had the plague_. "Welcome to Veelas' realms," Michel said. "I am deeply grateful to all of you for coming to warn us and help us."_

All he received was a few blank stares. "They are English," Cane said, "they don't speak French."

"Oh. I understand." And Michel repeated his words in English. "You still have a few minutes to rest, before we go to the others."

The trees seemed to be moving to open a space for the Veela to move freely. The newcomers followed him on the smooth path and soon found themselves on a large clearing, surrounded by old, dark trees with thick heads. The Veelas, men and women alike, were all silver-haired and beautiful. There was something about them that mysteriously, but unmistakably showed that they were not humans.

Everybody looked curiously at the humans. Some of the Veelas recognized Cane, who had not come here for years since Elise's death. Smiling, they waved at him and some of them came nearer. One of the girls even hugged him, and Arielle growled quietly, but menacingly, showing her the hilt of the dagger that she had hanging on her belt. The young Veela laughed and stepped aside.

Michel started talking in Bulgarian, and the Veelas' faces fell down, when they realized the forthcoming danger. They started talking hurriedly, and Michel looked at the humans and pointed at a white building near the clearing. "That is our village. You can stay in my mother's house until everything is over."

"We didn't come here to hide," Sirius protested. "We are here to fight and if able, to catch some Death Eaters alive to question them."

Michel nodded. "I thought that would be your answer," he said, "but I had to ask. Very well, I will send you someone to give you supper and restoring herbs. You need both."

"Thank you, Michel," Margo said.

He was just about to leave when someone emerged from between the trees. Alain. He was dirty and tired-looking, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes. He cast a quick look at Margo and the others, nodded briefly, and turned to Michel. "I heard just in time," he said, "Father was able to find me."

Michel nodded. "I thought you'd want to be here. I'm glad to see you, brother, but you need to restore your strength if you want to survive the night."

"I know."

"I'll be waiting for you in the clearing."

Margo tried to catch Alain's eye, but he deliberately chose to avoid looking at her, while he was walking towards the white house.

"Is he really _the_ Michel Montresorre?" Cissy asked softly. The man was a legend not only by his seven world titles but more importantly, by being the only duelist in more than a thousand years to sweep the great prize – by now, it amounted to seven million Galleons - by winning a world championship with the maximum possible number of maximum possible scores. Fourteen world class matches in a week without a single mistake. But he didn't look larger than life. He didn't even stand out among the other Veelas – he looked as ordinary as they came.

Cane laughed. "He really doesn't look all that grand between the trees, does he? He doesn't even look grander than me."

Alain reappeared from the house and Margo held her breath. Clean and visibly less tired – the herbs must have had some say in that – he was wearing the same clothes as Michel and the other Veelas. There was a strange expression on his face that she had seen only a few times, for all their years together and their childhood, and it made her be on the alert. It meant that right now, Alain was more Veela than human, that he had planned something. She supposed what this something might be, but she asked him anyway. "What are you going to do?"

He smiled, sat next to her and caressed her hand. "This night, I will finally achieve my heart's desire."

"And what is your heart's desire?" she asked, feeling sure what he would answer. The others had no idea, though, and his reply made them all shiver because of the even, resolute tone that it was voiced into.

"Revenge. Justice. The Lestranges' breath."

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	32. A Visit from the Wraiths

**Disclaimer:** I am not Jo, I am me. That means that I own nothing.

_Thanks to everyone who left a review for this story._

**Thank you, saiyanwizardgurl again, for editing this chapter.**

Chapter 32

_An hour later…_

The Veelas lost no time in organizing their defense. A few of them spread around to leave some nasty surprises for the Death Eaters while others started muttering incantations that Sirius could not quite understand, but he could tell that they were meant for delusion – in some way, they would mess up the uninvited guests' minds. A third group started organizing the evacuation of women and children. It was not an easy process since some of the women preferred to stay and fight and did not hesitate to say that aloud. Sirius' gaze was attracted by a young couple: the woman, dark-haired and stubborn, was holding her blond-haired baby to her chest and arguing fiercely with the man, who was obviously a Veela. Sirius could not understand the Bulgarian words, but it was obvious that the woman stubbornly refused to go to safety. The man shook his head and cut off her speech, but only for a second, because in the next moment, she was already crying and refusing to accept his arguments.

"Irina is a Muggle," a male voice said. Michel Montresorre had just appeared from behind Sirius. "And if she stays here, she'll be completely helpless against our – err, guests."

"Ah," James said, "I understand."

Despite the whole seriousness of the situation, Michel smiled. "Yes, she's strong-willed, our Irina, but now – "

Sirius did not hear the end of the phrase. He was still looking at the arguing couple: the woman's dark complexion, the man's fair hair. All Veelas looked a bit alike to Sirius, and in this moment, he hated them all. Looking at the man with Irina, he could easily imagine how attractive Alain Montresorre must have been as a young man. Had Angela resisted his charm? Or had she fallen for him? Had she planned to leave Sirius for him? Had she lain in his arms with swollen lips and dark eyes, bleary with lust?

"We still have three hours. You'd better stay in my house and rest. The climbing must have left you very tired. Magda will be ready with her herbs very soon."

Sirius knew that the Veela was right. He and James silently followed him to the white house where Cane and the others had already gone before them.

"Make yourselves at home," Michel said, leading them to a sitting room that was surprisingly simply furnished yet comfortable. There were two armchairs, a sofa, and two small tables. No radio or Muggle devices. Everything was upholstered with bright damasks and the carpet on the wooden floor was shockingly red. "Cane knows where the food is. Don't drink the wine until Magda comes, because herbs and wine are not always a good combination. See you soon."

"Merlin, he's awful," Sirius said as soon as their host left them alone. "Such pretences, such false – "

"Why, I think he's quite nice," James said absent-mindedly. He was standing next to the smaller table near the fireplace, looking at the photos that Michel had arranged there. Vivienne and Dominic, Alain and Isabelle, and Michel himself – obviously those were family photos, because Vivienne's silver hair and fine skin, combined with Dominic's square jaw and grey eyes kept repeating in almost every frame on the faces of various people, some of them completely unknown to the beholder. James' eyes remained fixed for the longest time on the smiling face of the young Elise, Remus' wife. Not for the first time, James wondered what kind of person she had been. Beautiful, that was for sure. Physically attractive, there was no need to talk about that. Probably smart, for Moony would not have fallen for her if she were stupid, no matter how pretty she was. Kind-hearted, judging by the way Cane and Julian spoke of her. And brave – she had proven that with her death. Capable of loving with all her heart, otherwise she would not have met the Killing Curse herself. Why was Sirius so stubborn? Why was he insisted on seeing the Veelas, and Michel Montresorre in particular, as people related to Alain, his rival for Angela? James did not like seeing his friend like this. True, Sirius was impatient, hot-tempered, and prone to flare up, but he was not malicious – except for now. _Why can't he see the Veelas as _Elise's_ relatives?_

"I didn't ask her to!" Sirius said angrily. James' thoughts had always been easy for him to read. "It's not my fault that she took her playing of mother so seriously that she got a distorted picture of her life. I'm not the one who encouraged her to think that she was really Cane's mother and I certainly wasn't the one who pushed her to play the hero. Oh, it must have been really dramatic. I suppose she felt so noble and self-sacrificing while taking her last breath. Well, she was a dancer, after all, and I suppose she just couldn't stop herself from such dramatic acts. It was her own fault that she was vain enough to lose her life, I never forced her to."

The sudden change in James' expression made him stop. Slowly, he turned round to look at the white walls and the window, and the moonless night spreading in front of his eyes. At Cane.

Cane was standing at the doorframe. His face was completely expressionless, his dark eyes unblinking, and Sirius heard the echo of his own ugly words. He swallowed with difficulty. "Cane, I – "

Without looking at him, Cane crossed the room and stood next to James. "You were looking at the pictures, yeah? This is Elise. And those are her parents."

"Nice photos."

"Veelas," Cane shrugged. "They can't help being beautiful."

"They definitely are." James was looking at one particular picture. "Who is this?"

Cane looked. "This is Lucien Montresorre," he explained. "Elise's older brother."

James nodded. "I see. Does he live here?"

Cane shook his head. "He hasn't lived anywhere for the last twenty-five years," he said. "He's dead. He died in the First War and so did his brothers Axel and Cristian. Of course, it was their choice to fight the Death Eaters, who finally killed them, no one forced them to, so I suppose it's okay."

"Cane," Sirius said. "I shouldn't have said it. I don't know what happened. I didn't…You know I didn't mean it. I just – " He sighed. "I just didn't think."

"That isn't anything new." Cane's voice was even. "And actually no, I don't know. What I know that what you cherish above all is your pride. And your pride was so injured by the discovery that your wife had been desired by another man that you started hating everyone related to him, even Elise."

"I don't hate her."

Cane raised an eyebrow without saying anything.

"I don't," Sirius insisted. "I just – "

"Yes," Cane nodded. "You just. It's always 'I just' with you, Sirius."

There are some words that can never be forgotten, never mind whether they were truly meant or not. Sirius realized that he had said those words. Not knowing what to say, he looked at James, who shrugged. "You know about your mother?" Sirius finally asked.

"I heard your argument with Alain."

"Oh."

"But I've known it already."

"How so?"

"He told me himself years ago. He's never been ashamed of his love."

"What did he tell you?" Sirius asked, desperate to know.

Again, Cane looked at the pictures, hoping that not looking at Sirius would help him keep his anger under control. "That's just between him and me," he said briskly.

Well, obviously he could not calm down so quickly. Even talking to Sirius in a civil voice was taking a great effort that he was not sure he would be capable of for longer. How dare Sirius talk about Elise like that! What he said was cruel and untrue; it deprived her death of its meaning and depth, even if he did not mean it! _I am rash and hasty and I forget to think, too_, he thought, _but there are lines and I never cross them. Sirius acknowledges no boundaries._

"When Magda is here," he said to James, "tell her to come upstairs. Cissy and the twins are there, and I want her to have a look at Arielle, too."

James nodded, knowing that the climbing must have exhausted the pregnant red-head more than she was ready to admit.

Cane left, nodding at James.

Sirius landed his fist on the table, causing the photographs to go flying in all directions. "What else can possibly go wrong?" he yelled.

James wisely refrained from answering.

The Veela named Magda, who was obviously a specialist in herbs and their uses, came in a few minutes later, carrying a small bag with her. She was not young and there were obvious lines in her face, but she was still stunning. Her eyes were blue and friendly and she was smiling, although there was certain nervousness in her smile. James and Sirius decided that she was nervous not because of them, but because of the fight that was coming.

"Eat," she said in a strange variation of French, offering them some dried purple herbs. They hesitated, but finally they put the herbs in their mouths and started chewing them. The effect was almost immediate – their energy started coming back, they felt refreshed and vital again. James smiled gratefully at the woman.

"Thank you," he said in French and she nodded, smiling again.

There was no need to tell Magda to go upstairs because she did it anyway. "She's afraid," James said slowly, when they were left alone.

"Who wouldn't be in her place?" Sirius asked.

Now, with their energy restoring, they both felt how hungry and thirsty they were. Unfortunately, Cane was still on the second floor and anyway, after the stupid words that he had let himself say, Sirius would rather die than ask him for food. "Well, I suppose we can at least warm ourselves," James said, and seeing Sirius nod, he pointed his wand at the fireplace.

"Close the door," James said. When Sirius did not move at all, he put his own words into action.

When he turned round to go back to the fireplace, he almost yelled in surprise. Sirius followed his look and they both watched in fascinated horror as a tall figure was emerging from the flames. It looked like Flooing, but the figure was indistinct, white and luminous as if it was made by pale moonlight. Slowly, it took form and James' eyes widened even more. It was Elise's brother; it was Lucien Montresorre from the photo! He couldn't be more than twenty. He was pale and encircled with some strange glowing; his strong, fine-shaped features and dark eyes were the same ones that James had seen in the picture, but there were smudges of blood on his cheeks, as well as holes that looked like raw burnings. There were whole tufts of his silver hair that were missing, revealing the red, rough, injured flash of his skull beneath them; one of his facial muscles was cut, leaving the mouth hanging down on one side; his left arm was torn almost apart from his torso, while the right one, covered in blood, was still feebly clutching his wand. His robe was ripped at few places, along with the skin beneath it and the movement of his open muscles was visible each time when he did as much as move his head. There was a large slash on his right thigh that would have made walking impossible had he been alive. His bare chest was caked with dried blood. A large wound, dark and clean, was clearly visible in the center of his body where his heart had once been.

"You stare as if you don't recognize your own kin's handiwork," Lucien Montresorre, or his ghost, whatever this thing was, said, his voice shockingly cold, his dark eyes never leaving Sirius'. "Don't let my brother's curse fool you. It was your cousin who gave me most of these wounds. As well as your second cousin, or maybe third, I am not sure."

"I refuse to be judged according to their deeds," Sirius said.

"And yet, you don't hesitate to hate my whole family with passion because of Alain. You even dare to treat Elise's sacrifice with contempt."

_His English is quite good, save for the French 'r',_ was all James could think about, and the distorted mouth gave something like a grin, as if the ghost had heard his thought and it had greatly amused him.

Sirius started to say something, and then shook his head.

"Do you deny it?" Lucien asked, his voice rising sharp like a blade.

Sirius looked up and met the other's gaze, deep and hot.

"Do you?" Lucien demanded again.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Lucien, leave him alone! Can't you see that he doesn't think that anyone related to our brother deserves either respect or answers?" a new voice cut in, and another light figure materialized from the fireplace: a young man, a few years older than Lucien. Unlike the other wraith, he had succeeded in keeping his Veela handsomeness, save from the thin red line on the white skin of his neck: obviously he had died with his throat slit. He looked exactly like Michel, only twenty years younger. He looked around and there was a surprised expression in his blue eyes. "Where are the others? Where is Michel? Why are you the only ones here?"

"He's busy," James answered, because the young Montresorre was looking straight at him.

The ghost's forehead frowned. "Busy? I'd understand if he can't bear to face us, I know it hurts him, but _busy_?"

"There's going to be an attack very soon," James said. "The Death Eaters."

The two ghost brothers shared a look and while they were doing so, a third wraith came forward, this one with no wounds of a magic duel on his body, but with a knife wound in his chest. Even the knife was still there. He smiled darkly at James' and Sirius' bemused faces. "A momentarily distraction," he said. "Never let yourselves get distracted during a duel, or you can receive more than a wand strike in your chest. Not that you can't receive a wand strike, I don't mean that," he added, nodding at someone behind him, who was still invisible for the two living men in the room. "Death Eaters, you say? The last time they came here, it was quite bad, wasn't it?"

He was looking at Lucien, who merely shrugged in response. "The last time they came here, I died," he said evenly, "so yes, I'd say that it was quite bad."

"What's going on here?" Sirius demanded. "You are all dead. No magic can revive the dead, so what are you doing here?"

The third ghost laughed softly. "You mean that my brother took you there and then just left without warning you not to light the fire? That is so untypical for Michel."

"Well, I suppose the perspective of Death Eater coming should give him an excuse," the second ghost said wisely.

"Boys, would you stop it? You were never good at being philosophical, not even when you were alive, and it certainly hasn't become your strength now."

The three ghosts turned around and then stepped aside of the fireplace and parted, allowing one last wraith to step forward.

Sirius had known that she would come, of course – he had known it from the moment he had realized that the other ghosts were her brothers – but still, he was unprepared for what he saw.

She wore a black skirt and a green blouse without sleeves that left her slim arms bare – she had obviously been one of the witches who preferred Muggle clothing in their everyday life. Her skin was glowing like her brothers', but somehow her silver shine looked gentler, finer. Her long white-blond hair fell to the small of her back and her face was as lovely as the videotape of her that he had seen, but James, who had never seen her in person, now appreciated for the first time how little justice the photos did Elise Montresorre Lupin. Sirius' eyes, on the other hand, kept falling to her left breast, where a small dark circle showed the place where his mother's curse had hit her, causing her death.

"What do you think? That such a small spot isn't dramatic enough?" Even her voice was silver – crystal and cold.

Sirius swallowed. "I don't think any such thing," he said.

One delicate eyebrow rose doubtfully. "Don't you?"

Sirius looked down. He did not understand what was going on and how those wraiths had appeared, but it was obviously that she had heard his earlier insulting words. He looked up and met her gaze. Her blue eyes blazed like cold fires.

"I didn't mean it. I just…I just didn't think."

Elise smiled icily. "I never thought that you meant it," she said.

"You didn't?" Sirius was confused.

"It isn't your style," she said. The smile became a grin, wide, cheerless. "You never mean it, that's what I gather from what I know about you. You didn't mean to betray Remus' secret to that other boy, or send the boy to be _killed_ by Remus, it just happened. You didn't mean to mock my death, it just happened. You never mean it. You never mean to do or say at least half of the things that you do and say, am I right?"

Sirius was silent. James was looking at her, amazed. Somehow, he had not thought that Moony would tell anyone about the Whomping Willow accident – he had been too ashamed of it. Elise gave him a wan smile, making him feel silly – of course Remus would have told her, they must have talked a lot about the whole lycanthropy thing. His next thought was that she did not show him the hostility that she was treating Sirius with. Of course, he had not been the one who had insulted her.

Sirius blinked. "I am sorry."

Elise laughed coldly. "Of course you are."

"I really am. I know I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. I didn't do it for you. Actually," she added thoughtfully, narrowing her glowing eyes, "I doubt I would have done _anything_ for you, had I ever met you in person. I like you even less than you like me."

"I don't dislike you."

"Well, then _I _dislike _you_. I can't like anyone who has wronged Remus not once, but twice."

James suddenly felt an urge that was completely inappropriate for the moment: the mad desire to laugh. "I think you must have got along with Raymond really fine," he said.

Her lips twitched slightly, but that was all. James supposed that no self-respecting ghost would burst out laughing.

Again, Elise focused her attention on Sirius. "Bring Cane along," she said. "Bring him!"

"Why? What are you going to do?"

Her eyes glowed even more and now their shining was darker, and her brothers grinned. Lucien even laughed.

"I don't mean to hurt him," Elise said. "If I did, why would I bother dying? Bring him along!"

Sirius hesitated.

"Ah no!" one of the brothers protested. "Wait!"

She turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Because once you see the boy, you'll get all soppy on him and we want to know what's going on in the world of living," the guy answered. "Her eyes are on a wet place," he explained to James and almost immediately became serious. "Is there an open war now?" he asked.

"Yes, there is," James said. "Voldemort finally declared his presence."

The wraith sighed. "So it's all started again," he said.

"Yes."

"And there is going to be an attack here this night?"

"We had information that there would be. Your brothers are organizing the defense right now."

"Is he powerful?" Lucien joined the conversation.

"More than ever before."

The four wraiths took a collective breath. _Can wraiths take breath?_ James wondered.

"Merlin, I hoped the fact that he's once been defeated would lessen his strength," Elise said.

"It didn't."

She considered that for a moment. "Is he going to be here tonight?"

"I don't know. I expect that if he considers it important enough, some of his best lieutenants will be. Bellatrix Lestrange and others."

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the others, but when James and Sirius looked at him, Lucien Montresorre was already smiling. With his torn mouth, the sight was not a pretty one. "So, the bitch is coming here," he said. "Why, Alain should be really grateful. Today is his lucky day."

"Not many people call themselves lucky after a duel with Bellatrix," Sirius pointed out.

"Alain is not the 'other people.' He's already searching the land for her. I've told him that he should forget all about her already and lead a normal life, but he'll never leave it at that. He's vowed to avenge me and I have no doubt that he will."

Sirius was not surprised by the news that Bellatrix had killed the boy – yes, no matter how old Lucien Montresorre would have been now, he had obviously been a boy at the time of his death. Bellatrix must have killed him without hesitation – to her, he had been a half-breed, something less than a human. What surprised him was the news of Alain Montresorre's quest for vengeance – the bloody Frenchman had always seemed a man with common sense, not a suicide wish.

"He'll die in the attempt," Sirius said. _What a sweet perspective!_ "I can assure you, Bellatrix has killed men far more formidable than your brother. It would be wise of you to persuade him to give up on this vengeance business before it's too late."

The wraith gave him a faint smile. "If you were in my brother's position, would you follow such advice?"

The glowing dark eyes moved knowingly to James and Sirius looked aside. The long dead boy was right, of course. He had been in Alain's position and nothing on earth could have dissuaded him from seeking vengeance. And finally he had ended up in Azkaban.

"You see?" Lucien asked. "You are more like my brother than you are willing to admit."

"Maybe," Sirius said reluctantly. "But that doesn't change the fact that she's going to kill him."

This time, all three brothers started laughing. Elise, though, found nothing amusing in that. The glowing in her eyes intensified and she stared at Sirius, all icy fury. "And you are ready to assist her, aren't you?"

This was too much for him to bear. He was tired of explanations and accusations. If she did not want to accept his apology, it was up to her. He was done with humiliating himself in front of her. "Listen, it isn't my mistake that she killed your brother – Lucien, was it? – and if you are hinting that I would – "

"She did not kill him."

Startled, Sirius turned around. Alain Montresorre was standing near the threshold, his brother Michel and his sister Isabelle close behind him. He was not looking at Sirius. His eyes were fixed on the four wraiths, who were smiling in welcome, although their faces were sad. He was very pale and his lips were twitching convulsively. He looked awfully tired.

"How so?" Sirius asked.

Again, Alain did not look at him. "Because I was the one who did."

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_A few minutes later…_

"That bastard – "

"Sirius, stop it!"

"That cold-blooded bastard, all lethal curses and cheekiness – "

"Sirius, stop!" This time, James' tone was sharper, because they were almost at the top of the stairs and the last thing they needed was for someone to hear Sirius talking without thinking again.

"Well, it's true!" But Sirius' voice was softer this time. "To take your own brother by surprise and shoot Avada Kedavra at him, when you are still a kid, that must be the most awful thing – "

But right then, they found Cane and the others and all thoughts about Alain Montresorre's life and crimes disappeared from Sirius' mind.

Cane was lying on a sofa with a bright cover. He was naked down to his waist and the awful thinness of his body was more than evident. Sirius was glad that his son was lying on his back so he would not have to look at the disgusting marks on his back. Cane's face was very pale, but just for seconds it seemed to turn deeper and deeper shade of red – he was obviously struggling for breath. The old Veela, Magda, hurriedly prepared some herbs and knives, sterilizing them on the fire in the fireplace, which was mercifully free of ghosts. Her muttering in Bulgarian was quiet but angry while she was moving hastily here and there.

"She's saying that the climbing … has really got it out of him," Arielle, who was able to catch the general meaning of Magda's muttering, explained, whispering. "She's displeased that Cane has not come to her sooner. In the beginning of his illness, she says, she would have been able to heal him easily, but now the infection…has gone too high up in his throat and the effort of climbing up has…started the last stage of development."

She was very pale and she was trying to hide her fear. Cissy patted her hand, but her mouth was tightened and for Sirius, who had been born in Black family, it was not hard to recognize the stoical self-control that his female relatives used to hide their nervousness. For once, Fred and George were stunned in shocked silence. They were looking at Cane, who continued lying immobile, his hands lying limply to his sides. He had been choking long and painfully and now, calmed down, taken a lifesaving breath of air, seemed to have grown drowsy, only it was more like daze, during which the vein in his neck started pulsing hard. Everyone in the room knew that he would wake up as soon as the new fit of choking came to him. And then the inevitable would happen. And at the end, when the spirits got separated from the body, the throat would finally open up, but the breath of life would not pass through it, the heart would slow down and finally stop – the death would come and no one had ever taken anyone back from death.

"What's she going to do?" Sirius asked. His face was now as pale as Cane's had been at the beginning.

Arielle looked at him and there was pure horror on her face. "She's going to open his throat to ease his breathing. I don't know how." Obviously, her limited Bulgarian was not enough to let her understand everything that Magda was saying. "So he can breathe again."

"Open his throat?" Sirius was appalled. "What kind of barbarity is this?"

"Why, do you have a better suggestion?" Arielle snapped.

She was right, of course: even the most powerful spells in St. Mungo's and all of Raymond's efforts had proven useless so far. And yet, _opening Cane's throat_? With the knives that Magda had put in the fire? Sirius thought that he would be sick.

"Michel," Magda said in French, giving him only a brief look. "Bring him here, I need his help."

Not understanding what she meant, Sirius was glad that he had an excuse to go out of the room. He'd rather face the four wraiths downstairs instead of looking at Cane in such a state.

He hurried downstairs and knocked on the door. Nobody answered him, so he gathered up all his courage and entered the room.

There was nothing frightening. Michelle Montresorre was sitting on the sofa, Isabelle had taken one of the armchairs and Alain was lying on his stomach on the carpet, looking at the four figures in the middle of their little circle. The wraiths were sitting on the floor and talked with the others in hushed voices. Everything seemed strangely normal – except from the faint shining of the ghosts and the grief on all faces. There were tears glistening on Isabelle Delacour's cheeks, as well as Elise's. Sirius noticed also that the wraiths had lost their mortal wounds and, in Lucien's case, their deformities, and now looked almost as if they were alive. Only, they were not.

"Montresorre," Sirius said, and Alain stood up immediately, his blue eyes blazing with anger.

"In Bendida's name, can't you stay where you are expected to? Don't you see that we've got a private meeting here?"

"Manners, Alain!" Isabelle and Elise scolded at the same time, and Lucien, Axel, and Cristian grinned.

This time, Sirius paid no attention to the Frenchman's rudeness – he was too worried to even notice it. "Montresorre," he said again, looking at Michel, "Magda wants you to come upstairs. Cane is…he's very ill. I think – "

"I understand," Michel said calmly. "I'm coming."

He left without looking at the wraiths again. Sirius was going to follow him, when Elise's voice made him stop and look at her. She was anxiously wringing her hands and she had become even paler, if that was possible for a ghost. Her bright blue eyes were looking pleadingly at one of her brothers – the one who had obviously been Michel's twin. "Cristian – " she started.

He nodded. "I'll go upstairs and I'll tell you what's going on," he promised. "Don't worry, from what I've heard about your Cane, he's a pretty strong young man and won't give up so easily. Besides, Magda is with him and if someone can do anything, it's her."

With this consolation, he went to the wall and passed through it. A moment later, Alain was already holding a hand out to his sister Isabelle. "We don't have any more time," he told the three remaining ghosts. "We have to see how Cane is and then we have to go back to the preparations."

"We understand," Axel answered. "We'll be here, expecting news."

_Which means,_ Sirius realized, _that they are not able to leave the room._ Whatever had brought them here, it would not let them through the door – except, for some unknown reason, for Cristian. He silently followed Alain and Isabelle upstairs, where Magda was still fussing with her herbs and whispered urgently in Bulgarian, nodding from time to time at Cane, who, after a new fit of choking, was lying limply on his sofa.

Isabelle nodded, her face worried. Alain took her hand again and they both left the room. Michel, who had been rummaging in a drawer, now stepped aside, his fingers closed around an object that Sirius could not see. His cold grey eyes met Sirius'. "Magda wants you and your friend to go out," he said. "When you leave the house, turn right and go to the forest. Go right ahead, until you see the path separating in two. Go to the left one. After a while, you'll see a spring right ahead of you. Fill this with water." He went to them and gave Sirius an ewer that seemed to be made of silver. "And then come back. We're going to use the water for the healing."

"Can't you just use the water you have here?" Sirius asked. _Why should we waste time going out and taking water from there when there is plenty of water here?_

Magda hissed something angrily in Bulgarian.

"No," Michel said coolly. "We can't. I don't have the time to go into this right now, but the spring I'm talking about is quite special."

"But he – " Sirius looked at Cane, who had started to struggle for breathing in again. "But by the time I come back here, he will be – "

Michel shook his head. "He won't die," he said, going to the sofa and pressing the item that he was holding in his palm to Cane's cheek. "Not while I'm holding this to his skin."

Sirius could not see what the little object was, but Cane seemed influenced by the touch of it: his red face turned a more normal color, his noisy, painful attempts to breathe were replaced by softer sounds, and his pose did not seem so stiff anymore. He had returned to his previous dozing.

Sirius and James did not exchange a word while they were hurrying through the forest among the Veelas, who were making some last, busy preparations, neither did they speak when they found the spring. The lilac trees on its shore gave the water their fragrance. Sirius filled the ewer, careful not to make the water splash too much because it suddenly occurred to him that he should not disturb the silence and the calm, slow movement of the water. Everything here was so peaceful. He felt like he had suddenly landed in another world. It seemed impossible to imagine that this place would be turned into a battlefield very soon and yet, he knew it was the truth.

They hurried back to the house and found out that Michel had been right – Cane was still in the same state that they had left him in – semi-conscious, but breathing. Still. Michel was still holding the object to the younger man's cheek and Arielle had knelt next to the sofa. Cissy and the twins were still in their previous places. The wraith was standing in the other corner, looking at Cane with impassive interest.

"Good," Magda said, took the ewer, poured some of the water into a ladle and then added some sweet-scented blossoms. "I'll start it now."

Michel drew his hand and stepped aside. Almost immediately, Cane started struggling for breath again. Magda put her head on his chest and tried to sound his heart under the hot skin. Those uneven, occasional and subsiding tones of the young heart, the attempts of his blood to set the heart in motion gave her hope, but they were vanishing, replaced by the horrible silence which would last so long, to the next beat...

"Everyone out!" she said. "Only Michel can stay. The others – out!"

Arielle shook her head and was ready to talk, but James went to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Think about the baby," he said.

She looked defiant, but then her shoulders sagged in surrender. James took her hand and helped her to her feet. Cissy hugged her and led her outside. The twins obviously had no desire to witness what was going on and left, followed by the wraith, who had presumably gone to tell his sister about the newest development.

"You too," Michel said, looking at the only two men left in the room.

James shook his head. "I have some knowledge in Muggle medicine," he said. "I want to watch."

Magda was washing her hands with some strong smelling liquid. Her eyes were looking at the two men. Michel noticed that and told her something in Bulgarian and then turned to Sirius. "We don't have time. Leave immediately!"

"No," Sirius said simply.

"You won't be able to stand it. You're his father, you should leave...not for him and not for us. Do it for yourself! Get out!"

"No."

Michel looked irritated. "All right, but don't say later that I didn't warn you."

Now he started washing his hands too, as well as the little object that he had been pressing against Cane's skin earlier.

Magda appeared to have lost interest in what the three men were doing. As soon as her hands became dry, she wiped Cane's face and neck with a towel moistened with the water in which she had boiled her herbs, and then she took one of the knives and made the first section.

Cane's eyelid fluttered – he was obviously in pain, but his semi-conscious state did not let him a more violent reaction.

Sirius looked horrified at the red line that had appeared on his son's neck, but did not say anything – he was the one who had insisted to stay, after all. He looked around to distract his mind of what was happening on the sofa, and his eyes fell on the shining object in Michel's still wet hand – the same object that had kept Cane breathing. Following his gaze, Michel raised his hand for Sirius to have a better look.

It was a necklace by a finely intertwined silver thread, on which on a socket of silver with some unknown carving there was a translucent, light-yellow piece of amber, shaped like a rhombus. The captured light of the fire was spreading and shining inside the stone, laughing, frowning and burning against the background of the pieces of darkness, caught just like them in its golden depths.

"It belonged to my sister," Michel said. "She received it at a Veela ritual when she was fifteen, and she rarely took it off. It was her most prized jewel. Of course, after marrying her husband, she rarely put it on, for he is not the one to go for silver."

_What a delicate way to put it, _James thought, but he did not say it, because he was glad that there was something keeping Sirius' attention away from the sofa and the knife.

"Why did it have such effect on him?" James asked.

Michel shrugged, not looking away from the sofa and ready at any moment to press the medallion to Cane's skin again, if there were any signs of worsening.

"I suppose you know how Elise died." It was not a question and the words were spoken in a casual voice. Obviously, he was not aware of Sirius' opinion about why exactly his sister had lost her life. Cristian, who had come closer to hear the explanation, had not forgotten about that. He shot Sirius a cold glance. "Well, after her death we brought the medallion here – her most treasured jewel, don't forget that – and gave it to one of our best Enchanters. He placed a charm on it – a complicated protective charm. Since she had sacrificed her life for Cane, while wearing it, the medallion would remember her last desire, her need to protect him, and would prolong his life, if it was mortally endangered."

"Then why on earth wasn't he wearing it?" Sirius asked angrily, his fury directed not at Michel, but at Cane's carelessness instead. To have something that would protect you and not use it, that could only come from the most reckless idiot in the world. Even Sirius would have worn it, if this thing could have provided him some sort of protection!

"Because he doesn't know anything about it. At the time we made the medallion, he was so stricken with grief and guilt because of her death that we did not want to remind him of her willingness to die for him. And then it just...slipped," he shrugged. "Besides, the medallion itself is just a pendant, nothing more. It is the charm that makes him a means of protection. And the charm is a blood-charm. To be used for defense, the medallion needs someone who shares Elise's blood to channel the protection, that's it. Morgaine, my parents, my siblings, and I." He sighed. "And if Cane had come to Magda earlier, there would be no need of this protection at all. I'll never know why Remus did not bring him to us weeks ago. Elise would've never made this mistake."

_Because Remus didn't know that Cane was still ill,_ Sirius thought. His son had been hiding it very successfully. And yet, even if Remus had known, would he have brought Cane here? What did he know about Veela healing methods, or Veelas at all? Sirius himself had never been aware that Veelas' magic might be just as powerful as the wizards'.

By now, Cane's face had become gray. He had last taken breath more than two minutes ago. Michel went to the sofa, ready to assist with the medallion, but Magda only shook her head 'no.' Mixing the protective power of the medallion, which would take the last strength left in Cane's body in order to make his throat let the air pass through it with Magda's trying to open an alternative way would do no good. The medallion was meant for protection, not healing. All was up to Magda herself, the skill of her hands and the time. She planted the knife in his skin again, next to his Adam's apple and higher, almost to his tonsils and stuck the silver tubule in the opening, trying to find the respiratory ways, to outrun the final fit of constriction, to bring in the salvation without knowing whether the joy, the overcoming, the recovery would come.

Cane had finally lost conscience. Magda felt how she was racing with time, because he might die in her hands, but wait, here it was – whizzing and straining his chest to the breaking point, Cane was inhaling again.

Sirius, Michel, and the wraith looked horrified at the black opening of the silver tubule and the pink foamy bubble at the place where it sank into the twitching skin. Now, Sirius wished that he had followed Michel's advice to leave. James, however, looked with something like clinical curiosity at the color that was slowly returning to Cane's cheeks.

"What?" Sirius asked, barely daring to breathe himself.

Magda wiped Cane's neck and face again, this time with the water that Sirius and James had brought her, and moistened his lips. When she turned to the men, she was smiling and that was all the answer they needed. Everyone laughed. Cristian disappeared into the wall to give the news to his sister, James looked with respect at the Veela woman, admiring the precision of her work, Sirius went to the sofa to look at Cane's face – he very carefully avoided looking at the tubule – and Michel closed Cane's fingers around the medallion. "I recommend that he keeps it with him," he said, "just in case."

Cane could not keep his fist clenched, so Sirius took the medallion and placed it in his own pocket to give it to him later. For a moment, his own fingers remained closed around the stone and he imagined that he could feel the beating of a heart – Elise's heart.

Arielle and the others were in the corridor. Sirius smiled at her and she looked ready to faint with relief. "He is – he is – ?"

"He will recover," Sirius assured her. "Everything went very well."

Her face paled even more and she swayed. Fortunately, George was quick enough to catch her before she fell, then he was the one swaying, because she hugged him fiercely, her head light with happiness. She hugged Cissy, then Fred and Sirius – all in all, she was ready to hug everyone in sight. Everyone except for Alain, who appeared on the top of the stairs, asked, "Cane all right?" and after receiving a chorus of 'yes', nodded. "Good. Now, be ready. They are coming."

_Just in time,_ Sirius thought. Cane had already won his battle. Now, it was their turn to win theirs.


	33. Not a Silent Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, my deepest regret.**

_Again, thank you, saiyanwizardgurl, for editing this chapter._

Chapter 33

_A few minutes later…_

Arielle could hear the battle – the curses, the screams, the moans of the fallen. More than once, her hand reached for her wand by its own will, and each time she had to make an effort to loosen her grip. She had never been a person who was prone to waiting – she had always taken part in events, especially one as active as combat. And yet, there was a battle outside and she was leaving it to the others to fight while she was doing nothing. She placed a hand on her stomach. _Well, girl, you wanted this baby, so take care of it._

"Drink this," Magda said in Bulgarian, and Arielle took the potion that the old Veela gave her without asking any questions. It tasted sharply but not unpleasantly so, and Arielle drained the cup in two sips. She went to Cane's side. He was still unconscious, as he was supposed to be, but she thought that his complexion was not so awfully pale now. Arielle took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze. He did not react, but then, she had not really expected him to. She returned to the window and again started looking at the night that was lighter than it should be – lightened not only by the radiance of the stars, but also by the bright colors of the flying curses.

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_Meanwhile…_

"_Homenum Revelio!_"

A moment later, Sirius realized that there was no use of the spell – he did not need it to tell him that he was surrounded by people, because he already knew that. The wood was full of Death Eaters, Veelas, and friends alike – and Margo Saint Claire, who was certainly not a friend. _What the hell is Montresorre thinking? _Sirius spared a moment to think while he was hurrying at the place where two female Veelas were facing two Death Eaters. _She's a historian of magic, Merlin's pants! How can he let her take part in _this_?_

He was not sure what to expect of Veelas – their magic was so different from that of wizards. He had no idea what they could and what they could not do, so he considered it wise to be prepared for the worst but hoped for the best anyway.

The Veelas he was hurrying to help turned out not to need his help. While one of them had a limp shoulder hit by some curse that had ripped her skin and muscles apart and reduced her bone to powder, she could still use her other hand to direct the fire that seemed to leak from her bare fingers without the assistance of a wand. Thinking of that, Sirius realized that the only Veelas around him who had wands were Alain Montresorre and his siblings, as well as very few of the others. _Of course, they are only half-Veela, so maybe they really need wands to be able to channel their magic,_ Sirius thought absent-mindedly, while he was starting his duel with a masked Death Eater – was it his dear relative Rodolphus Lestrange? It was hard to tell through his mask, but Sirius had the strong suspicion that it was him.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_ Sirius yelled, and the invisible shield immediately fell between him and his enemy. _"Levicorpus!"_

Unfortunately, the shield that he himself had raised slowed the curse down and his opponent easily avoided it.

"_Sico!"_

_Yeah, definitely Rodolphus,_ Sirius thought and ducked to avoid this particular type of Cutting Curse.

"_Incendio!"_

"_Protego!"_

"This won't do, Black!" a female voice screamed to his left. "Don't let him get you exhausted with defending yourself, while he – "

The woman, Margo, never finished that phrase, but Sirius got the message. Now, he realized that Lestrange had really put him in position where he mostly had to defend himself. And people who mostly defended themselves rarely won. Thinking fast, he decided to attack with full force.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ he roared, and Rodolphus had no other choice but to dodge. Sirius took advantage of the situation to take a few steps forward. Behind Lestrange, there was a group of trees situated close to one another. If he could get Rodolphus to them, that would make his movements far more uncomfortable. He shot a Blasting Curse, which the other man countered before responding with a curse of his own, but it was clear now that the balance was changed: Sirius would not let himself being confined to self-defense anymore.

He took a quick look around: Veelas were trying to avoid curses while answering with fire. Some had cutting silver lines erupting from their fingers and swords that seemed to be immune to any destroying spells. _Maybe they were made by goblins?_ Sirius decided that he would really have to ask later. The distinctive red heads of the Weasley twins attracted his attention – both boys seemed to be dealing quite well with their own duels. James was right next to him, shooting curses at another hooded figure – judging by her voice, she was a female. Not Bellatrix though – pity, because Sirius would not mind meeting his dear, dear cousin in person. A few yards left from James, Michel Montresorre and his sister Isabelle Delacour had turned their backs to each other, wands working busily - Michel was actually dealing with three rivals at the same time, doing the same trick that Sirius had seen him practicing in his first world championship – he was somehow able to cast different spells at different people simultaneously. But his sister's fury and quick reactions surprised Sirius – Madame Delacour had always looked so delicate and well-mannered, like a real lady. _People can always surprise us,_ he thought, shooting a Stunning Curse at the second attacker who was just pointing his wand at her without her noticing.

"So, you're here, dear cousin?" a female voice shrieked from his left. Bellatrix' voice. James shot a Body-Binding curse at her, but missed and then he had to return quickly to his own duel. "Here, to defend these…creatures. I must say, I expected this from your son and not you. So, where is he?"

Sirius did not answer. Instead, he stepped quickly aside to avoid her Cruciatus Curse. Now, he regretted his earlier wish to see her – pressed between her, on one side, and Rodolphus, on the other, was not how he had visualized their meeting.

While he was pointing his wand at her, he saw that the back up had come. True, he'd rather prefer James or the twins, or even Cissy coming to his aid than Margo Saint Claire, but better a weak support than none at all. He aimed his Disarming spell at Rodolphus and then avoided his Imperius. Another exchange of curses, then another one, and a third. When Sirius finally had a chance to throw a quick look at the two women, he found out that he had no need to worry about Bellatrix – she was being kept well occupied by the other woman, dodging and stepping aside, shielding herself. In the light of the curses both their faces were shining with sweat – Sirius realized that his own face was wet, too. In less than a moment, he knew that Margo was not only trying to fight Bellatrix – she was successfully fighting her, on equal terms. _What sort of a devilish historian is this one?_ Sirius wondered, before finally succeeding to land Rodolphus where he wanted to – with his back against a tree. When he raised his wand for the final curse, he suddenly felt himself being lifted off his feet and he hit another tree with a crash that, for an awfully long moment, made him think that he had broken his spinal column.

The wand flew out of his hand and all he could do was wait – wait for the death that was coming; wait for the words –

"_Avada – _"

"No!" a voice screamed. A moment later, Sirius found with relief that his spinal had not been broken, after all. He turned his head to his right and saw his attacker Rabastan Lestrange, whose mask had fallen, being pushed to the ground by a not too large wolf – smaller than Moony, at least – that pounced at him, ripped his shoulder open and grabbed his wand between its jaws. A moment later, it had jumped aside, transforming during the jump into a teenage boy with shining silver hair and a wand in his hand, taking Lestrange's wand from between his teeth. "You all right?" he yelled at Sirius.

"Yeah."

The boy went to him, looking at him carefully. "Magda must see you," he said, "you're not fit for fighting anymore. Come on."

"But – " Sirius objected.

"No buts," James joined the conversation, his rival – his second rival for this night, actually – lying dead on the grass. "It's almost over, anyway. They relied on Inferi and Dementors, but it seemed that they died as soon as they reached the clearing. I don't understand – "

"Our wards," the boy said shortly. "They can't survive crossing them. I'll take them both to the house," he said, looking at James. Sirius and James both shuddered, feeling slightly repulsed by the sight of the blood that was oozing down from the boy's mouth. He noticed that and roughly wiped it with his sleeve.

"Come on," he said, Levitating both Sirius and Lestrange in the air and walking toward Michel Montresorre's house.

"Montresorre was right," Bellatrix screamed behind their backs, "you and your beast _are_ a pair of murderers."

"Jealous, Lestrange? Don't like having rivals in your field, huh?" Margo's voice replied coldly. "_Sciso_!"

Noises of battle behind them, James casting a Repelling Charm over someone who was obviously aiming at the boy, then another duel starting, a new spell firing so close to them that Sirius practically felt it stir the air next to his ear – only next to it, thank Merlin, because he would not like becoming the next Holey George. Another voice, another hex and then Alain Montresorre's bloodied face suddenly appeared in front of them, contorted with fury.

The boy behind him spoke in French, in a voice that slightly shook, "I can explain – "

"You can explain later!" Montresorre cut him off. "Now go to the bloody house! Hurry up!"

The boy must have hurried up, because Sirius felt how the speed of his Levitation quickened. A few dozen yards more and he was safely in the house. He landed gently on the carpet while Rabastan crushed not so gently in front of the fireplace.

Arielle and Magda's worried faces appeared above Sirius'. "How are you?" Arielle asked.

"Fine. Cane?"

"Still sleeping."

Magda started fussing over him and when he tried to refuse her ministrations, she gave him a look that strongly reminded him of his first meeting with Vivienne Montresorre when she had transformed at Remus' house. His head hurt so much that he could not stand the sight – and the sound – of a terrifying bird right now. Letting her have her way was the easiest option.

The others came back before long – all quite bruised, many of them bloodied, but all alive. All there. The most significant harm seemed to be done to Cissy's hair – there was none of it left! Seeing herself completely bald, she screamed with horror and the others burst out laughing. She drew her wand out, which made them stop laughing. Magda looked at the damage and assured the upset girl that with regular use of the tincture that she would make for her, her hair would grow back in less than a month.

After they were treated and made sure that their guests were fine, the three from the Montresorre family went back downstairs to meet the wraiths. Magda treated all injuries the combatants had and then she, too, left. The others immediately started discussing the details of the battles, filling in the gaps with their own information. Sirius and James stood slightly aside, letting the young ones relive the glory of the victory again – they had long ago outlived the illusion that battles were awful and glorious. Battles were only awful, that was the truth – awful and maybe exciting, but not glorious. Never glorious. Margo Saint Claire was sitting next to the fireplace, deep in thought. The two men often looked at her with curiosity – her manner of fighting was not what was expected of a common historian, and a female one at that.

Rabastan Lestrange was lying completely motionless on the carpet – after making sure that his injuries would not kill him, Magda had not bothered to tend to him and he was still unconscious. Judging by the looks the Montresorre brothers, and especially Alain, had given him, he would be very lucky if he never came back to consciousness.

The boy-wolf who had helped Sirius during the fight was also there, as well as an older Veela. Arielle introduced them as Lucien and Charles Montresorre. She and Charles seemed to be good friends. Lucien looked nervous, probably afraid of what his father, Alain, would do to punish him for leaving the refuge where the other children and the women had been taken to. Sirius wryly thought that, judging by the boy's age, Montresorre had not lost too much time grieving for Angela. _Killing your brother and then naming your son after him – the bloody Frenchman does not lack impudence._

Charles, who played host, took care of the dinner and the accommodation. Magda had forbidden them to move Cane, so he stayed where he was and Charles only added a bed for Arielle. Sirius and James shared the next room, but neither of them could sleep – James was too tired from the battle and Sirius was still concerned about Cane.

Finally, they heard Arielle's voice from the other room – she was talking to Cane, who had obviously woken up. He could not talk to her back, of course – he would not be able to speak for a few days, but judging by the relief in Arielle's voice, she found his state satisfactory.

"I'm going for a walk," James said. "Care to join me?"

When they came down the stairs, they heard the exchange of quick French words of farewell and then Isabelle's sobs and her brothers' soft voices. "Don't cry, Isabelle, we'll see them again. Next year… next year…"

Sirius and James hurriedly went outside, unwilling to be noticed. The dawn was just bathing everything in golden-pink glow and everything seemed so peaceful – the clearing, the trees, the way the green cover of grass sagged beneath their steps. It was almost impossible to believe that only a few hours ago, there had been a battle, a battle that had ended with mortal losses for both sides.

James and Sirius walked around, leaving the clearing and the way they had walked to the spring yesterday behind them. The forest slowly melted into another clearing, this one all surrounded by lilac trees and some unknown low bushes. By now, the glow of the down had erupted in full force and everything around – the sky, the bushes, the distant silver line of the water, the violet blossoms of the lilacs – seemed sprinkled with golden powder that was flowing in the air, like golden snow.

The animal part in the two Animagi could not resist the temptation. Sirius transformed first and James followed suit. The dog and the stag started chasing each other, mockingly fighting or simply running around deep in the golden mountain, their animalistic senses breathing the feeling of the wildness around them.

Finally, they resumed their usual form and started walking back. They stopped to drink from the cold water of the spring and felt instantly refreshed.

"That water works wonders, doesn't it?"

They had not noticed Isabelle, who had been sitting quietly on a stump of a fallen tree. Her hair was glistening wet from the light of the rising sun and there were small drops on her face and bare neck and arms – she had obviously just bathed. There were no tears in her eyes and she looked like she had never cried in her life.

"This is the most refreshing water I've ever tasted," Sirius said.

"This is probably the purest water you've ever tasted," the woman explained. "That's why Magda uses it for her potions, tinctures, teas and so on. You won't tell on me that I've bathed here, will you? If you do, she's going to kill me."

It was obvious that she was joking, and Sirius laughed. James, however, did not. He could not stop staring at her. She was dressed in a simple red robe, her hair waving on the breeze without any hair-style, and her face was very pale without make-up. That paleness, that disarranged silver hair, those blue eyes gathered together in an image so vital that James felt it filling all his mind and heart. Isabelle Delacour resembled Christine. Yes, save for the few details in the mouth and nose, she could practically be her twin. James was surprised that he had not noticed the resemblance earlier, but then, he had barely thought of Christine those last few months. First, he had had to fight both the sudden remembering of Lily and the pain of her death and the feeling of guilt that he had had a life, and a good one at that, while Harry had been forced to live with those horrible Dursleys, and later he decided that it would be the best for everyone if he did not attract the attention of the Death Eaters to her home by visiting. Besides, they had not exactly split up at the best of terms. _All good reasons for not contacting her_. Of course, the first reason was the one that mattered most – Lily. He had been reliving again and again all his memories of her and now looking at Isabelle was like being transported in another world.

Suddenly, he was back in time, with the other woman that he had loved with all his heart. But Christine's beauty was only a ghost of Isabelle's. Anguished by the constant quarrels, exhausted by her depressions, with time, Christine's stunning beauty had faded little by little. This morning, James saw in Isabelle the way Christine had used to look like. That realization stunned him. In that moment, it did not occur to him that it was this resemblance that had made him like her from the very beginning – her, and her mother, and her brother, whom Sirius hated so much. Even the disfigured Morgaine looked a bit like Christine. Of course, he would have liked Morgaine anyway – she was Remus' daughter – but the resemblance had made him like her just a little bit more. All he knew was the sudden realization of what he had to do as soon as they got back to England: he had to talk to Christine. How could it have ever occurred to him that having his past and Harry back would be enough? Of course, it would be enough, if he really had his past, but he, in fact, did not. What were fifteen years of his life if not a part of his past?

"Falling for her, yeah?" someone asked from behind and they both turned.

"Sarah!" James exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

His cousin – dark-haired, dark-eyed, a shade too thin - smiled slightly. "What are _you_ doing here, James? I thought you had a permanent residence three feet underground."

He laughed. "Not quite."

He hugged her, then put her a feet away and examined her. "You look… good."

He had, in fact, expected to see something far worse. Sarah had survived many months in Death Eaters' captivity – barely. He had heard that she had suffered so much harm that she had been afraid to leave her parents' home for years, until she moved out with someone.

She rolled her eyes. "You are such a charmer, James. How Lily put up with your eloquent compliments is beyond me."

He stared at her. "Sarah, what are you doing here? Seriously."

"I've been here for a few weeks. I love coming here. It's so peaceful… used to be. I first came here eight years ago. My husband is Michel. He brought me here."

James blinked. "Michel, as in Michel Montresorre?"

"The very same one."

"But I… I don't understand. Why didn't Remus tell me that? He told me some things about you but he never mentioned that you were married to someone like Montresorre."

Sarah sighed. She actually looked uncomfortable. "I see. Remus has always treaded a thin path when it came to you. I suppose it was hard with this family."

"What? Why?"

She did not answer at once. He took her face in his palms and stared hard at her. "It has something to do with their dislike of me, doesn't it? Dominic, your Michel and his mother, even Sylvie, for Merlin's sake! – they all seem to hold something against me. What is it? Why they hate me so much?"

She looked at Sirius.

"He can stay," James said. "Whatever you tell me, I'll tell him. So? What do they have against me?"

Although she was obviously reluctant to speak, Sarah finally did it. "Because you did something years ago, James. Something big and bad. When the war was coming to its end. Remus' wife…"

"Tonks?"

She shook her head. "His first wife, Elise. She was… she could be a very vindictive woman. She…"

"She tried to kill me," James said slowly. "I didn't believe it when I saw her photos. I thought my memory was playing tricks on me again."

Again, Sarah shook her head. "She did. You have no idea how much she hated you and Lily."

"Like your Michel does?" James asked sharply, losing the track in this weird conversation. "Whatever it is, tell me! What did I do?"

Sarah sat on a rock and smoothed her yellow skirt. Then, she looked him in the face. "Two months before the war ended, the three of you left the refuge. Do you remember?"

James nodded. "It was very stupid of us," he said. "We've been on the run for so long, always hiding, always crowding in this house or that. We just needed to get out, to breathe some air. But it was very stupid of us. The Death Eaters came after us. A whole crowd of them. I suppose Peter told them," he spat.

"Maybe he did. But it doesn't matter. Anyway, when you sent your Patronus to the headquarters, Michel was there, as well as his brothers, his cousin and a few friends. They came immediately. And you…" She hesitated but she said it. "You ran away."

James felt the reproach in her last words and flushed. Of all things that he had been called throughout his life, a coward was not one of them. "The Dark Lord was after Harry," he said. "And Lily was adamant that they wouldn't leave without me."

"Yes, of course she was." Sarah had known Lily. She knew how the red-haired Gryffindor could be. "So you left the battlefield. But they stayed there. And not everyone returned home."

James paled, realizing what she meant. "Sarah, if you have something to tell me, just say it. What happened?"

"Two of Michel's brothers died from their wounds that day," she said. "As well as two friends. And his cousin, Sylvie's brother… he was considered one of the brightest wizards ever born. Marc Saint Claire… he was an exchange student, he spent a year at Ravenclaw with us. We all admired him. He was so smart and talented. He had a bright future ahead of him. But he got hit in the head. He spent a long time in a hospital. When he was dismissed, he wasn't smart anymore."

James stared at her. Was that a cruel joke? If it was true, how would he live with himself? It was no wonder that they hated him! No wonder that Remus' Elise had tried to kill Lily. And no wonder that after interrogating her, Dumbledore had let her go. While she was still held at the headquarters, she had attacked James too. He had thought she was a madwoman then. But Merlin, she had had a reason!

"We just didn't think," he said slowly. "All this tension, all this fear was building up on us. That day, Harry was crying so much that…"

"Don'!" she interrupted. "_I_ am not accusing you of anything, James. You don't need to explain anything to me. But if you ever try to bring the matter up with them, for Merlin's sake, do not try to give _this_ excuse. The child was crying – I have children, too, and they cry, too. What should I do, let them jump from the sixth floor because they are crying that they want to? Sometimes, there are things that are more important than the child's wail."

What could he say? Of course, Sarah could not understand how hard this constant running had been but when she said it like that… it sounded so immature and selfish of him. Merlin, people had _died_ because of that walk of theirs!

Her eyes softened. "Try not to worry too much, James. What happened in the past stays in the past. It cannot be changed. Just don't expect friendliness of them, and it would be okay. You saved Morgaine, after all. They are not going to forget it. I'm sorry you learned about that but you insisted."

James looked at her. Then, he looked at Sirius. Then at Sarah again. "I didn't know," he said. "Why no one told me at the time?"

"Because no one knew," she replied. "In Britain, at least. Only Dumbledore was aware and honestly, I think it was his doing. I don't know why. I suppose he didn't want to create discord between the members of the Order. He might have decided it was best for this story to go untold, at least until the war ended. And then… you were heroes. Dumbledore often said people need heroes."

"People need truth," James said. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"Live with the blame," Sarah answered simply. ""There's nothing else you can do."


	34. After the Battle

**Disclaimer: You know that Harry Potter is not mine.**

_Thank you, __**saiyanwizardgurl**__, for editing._

Chapter 34

_Meanwhile…_

The scarce light of the torches barely touched the woman who entered the room for questioning, but it was enough for the young man to see who she was. A wave of fear ran through his body and he made an effort to stop it from becoming a shiver, because Bellatrix Lestrange fed on the fear of her victims. And Merlin knew that Noel Lerois was afraid of her. Oh, how afraid he was!

Bellatrix Lestrange slowly crossed the room and stopped right in front of Noel, who was hanging in the air with outstretched arms and legs that had become too thin. His silvery-blond hair had become black with accumulated sweat and dirt, his young face looked skeletal, and there were deep lines in it from the physical pain of torture and losing his hand, but his blue eyes were fierce and challenging.

"Madame Lestrange," he said. "What an honor. I thought you were too busy torturing and killing people to think of me."

Bellatrix waved her wand and Noel pressed his lips tightly together to stop his whimper as the invisible whip almost ripped his body open. "What are you doing here?" he asked again.

She intensified the light and Noel blinked – his eyes were burning. He briefly wondered whether it was a day or a night outside – he had lost his sense of time.

When he opened his eyes a bit, he noticed that Bellatrix had a large fading scar on her left cheek. The hand that was holding her wand was trembling slightly, as if holding her arm raised was causing her pain. Noel understood. "You've been defeated, haven't you?" he asked. "Your victims took the better of you this time and now you came here, where you won't meet with any resistance to feel better about yourself."

He could see it in her eyes. His provocations were very stupid because they would result only in further harm for him. Yet, he needed to do that. It meant that he had not stopped fighting. If he stopped, there would be no hope. Fighting and repeating to himself that he would survive and would be set free was what kept him living through the meager food and water, through the tortures, through everything. Arion's presence also helped – they did not dare to talk about really important issues, but they found support in each other. Thank Merlin that the Death Eaters had not realized that yet, otherwise they would separate them in a minute.

Bellatrix' face turned red with fury. "You're as arrogant as that sister of yours," she spat.

_Cissy._ Cissy had been the one who had done this to Bellatrix Lestrange. Or even if she had not done it herself, she had somehow been a part of it. _Cissy is still fighting. Maybe Arielle is fighting too. They are still alive. And they won a battle._

"_Crucio!_"

Noel tried not to scream. The thought that he was being punished for the Light side winning a battle was making it all easier, as if he had participated in it himself. His face burned hot with sweat and tears; his head would explode any minute. He would not survive it, he knew that; easier did not mean easy.

The first sob pushed its way through his lips despite all his efforts. Then the second one and the third one, each one stronger than the one before. The fourth sob turned into an uncontainable howl. The glazy blue eyes could no longer see anything.

Bellatrix waited patiently.

"Who is the spy, boy?" she asked leisurely and, after three endless minutes – ten thousand years, actually – removed the Cruciatus. There were few more moments, until Noel's screams quieted down in helpless whimpers. He slowly shook his head, as if that would help him gather his thoughts again.

"The spy? What spy?" A slight tremor that did not obey his will ran through his languid body.

"Don't play smart with me, boy! Who is the spy who regularly informs your friends about our plans?"

There was a spy? And that was why the Death Eaters had failed today – because someone had warned their victims about the attack? Who could it be? Noel had no idea. _Wait!_

Everything suddenly fit in his mind. That first evening, after his capture, Voldemort, Lestrange, the Cruciatus, the Death Eaters laughing… And among them he had spotted someone.

_Something._

A face. A face like the one that he had seen every day in classes, every night in his dreams. The old rumors about the First War, the victims and the failed wedding gathered together in perfect sense. Even the scandals with his family looked so logical if you took the spy explanation to be true.

Noel was very grateful that Bellatrix Lestrange would not use the Imperius Curse on him, because after the long suffering, he was not sure he would be able to resist it. He would resist anything but that. _Fortunately, no one will dare give it a try._ The Dark Lord himself had tried and failed.

That was Noel's last thought, before his mind started slipping into unconsciousness. A moment later, he felt a hand supporting his head and a mug being put to his lips. He drank greedily. After a few sips Bellatrix threw the mug on the floor. "That's better, isn't it, boy? Remember, tried not to bring more troubles at yourself – "

"I'll see you damned first, Death Eater! Do you hear me? I will curse you into oblivion, just give me – "

"_Crucio!"_

Noel started screaming again.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Meanwhile…_

The touch was gentle, caring, and sure. In a blur, Arion saw the pale contours of the face and closed his eyes. It was his father. His father would tend to his wounds and give him the strongest potions that could help him restore. He could fall asleep now. _How good it feels to know that someone takes care of you,_ he thought and his eyes closed.

"Arion! Arion, wake up!"

The sound of that voice was so unexpected that Arion's eyes immediately snapped open. He blinked to clear his vision and found himself face to face with a boy who was a year or two younger than him, black-haired, blue-eyed and so familiar that Arion's eyes filled with tears. "John?"

His brother smiled at him, although his eyes were sad. "Hello, Arion."

"What happened?"

"I was here when you started drifting off. Arion, you shouldn't. You have to stay awake."

Arion slowly shook his head. "I'll die," he said. "I don't have the strength to keep fighting anymore."

"I will fight instead of you. Arion, you must try to stay awake. I know it's hard, but you have to."

Arion laughed softly, looking at his own still body underneath them. "I must be mad if I choose to stay awake. Here, there is no pain."

John's face was concerned. "Here, there is no life."

Arion frowned. _Of course, that makes sense._ "You're right, I suppose. I am seeing you, am I not? Are you dead?"

John sighed. "I am neither dead nor alive. I just – exist. Like ghosts. Only, people can't see me, because I am not dead."

Arion took his brother's hand. It was warm and real. "I never knew that this was the effect of the Curse of the Living Dead. And I am seeing you, because I'll die soon, is that so?" This prospect did not worry him. It meant the end of pain. The end of the torture. The end of the captivity.

John's eyes were strangely wise and old on his young face. He looked just like he had looked when he had been nineteen. _When he had been cursed._ "Not if I can prevent it. You don't have to stay here, Arion. You must go back."

"But I want to stay here. With you."

"If you die, you won't stay here. You will keep moving forward. I am condemned to be in this state – neither dead nor alive and both of them together."

Arion shuddered. The thought of such existence turned his skin cold.

"There was a battle today," John continued, "and we won. Nothing is lost, Arion. You shouldn't become lost. Don't do that to Mum and Dad. To Arielle. To your girl."

Arion looked at him with sudden interest. "Chantal," he said softly, "must have found someone else by now."

"She hasn't," John said with certainty. "I know that. I've been keeping an eye on her for you. And I've been keeping an eye on all of you. You know that Arielle is pregnant?"

Arion's eyes widened. "I thought it was impossible!"

"She is. Don't you want to meet her baby? Don't you think it deserves to know at least one of his uncles on his mother's side?"

"Is it Cane's?"

John nodded. "They are trying to find a way to set you free, Arion. Don't fail them. Don't fail us, not after everything you've been through."

Arion scowled. He hated John's 'big brother's voice.' With this tone, John could make everything sounds logical and like it was the right thing to do. _He isn't my big brother anymore,_ he thought bitterly. _He stayed nineteen._

John seemed to realize that he had won. "Come on, Arion," he said, "give it a try." And then he added menacingly, "I don't want to see you here for the next sixty years, at least!"

Arion squeezed his hand. It was John's turn to scowl. His brother's palm was getting colder and colder. Each moment spent here meant separating Arion further from life. He shoved Arion's hand aside. With a sigh of resignation, his brother disappeared and the body whose blood was flowing out through nine wounds stirred slightly.

This time it was John who exhaled – a sigh of relief.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Meanwhile…_

By the faces of the people in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Raymond could say that there had been some good news. "So?" he asked, sitting at the table.

"Sirius called us," Linda said. "Through the fire. There was a battle, but they are all fine. The Death Eaters were defeated. They are coming back tomorrow."

Raymond sighed with deep satisfaction. Arielle was fine and they had won a victory. It was good to hear. Especially now.

He looked at Tonks, who was sitting against him, and smiled – she had always been able to drag a smile out of him, with her pink hair and bright character, even as a child. "And how are you, little one? And how is the baby?"

Remus and Sylvie must have noticed that something was out of order because they gave him quick looks, although they did not say anything. Tonks grinned at him – she liked it when people were interested in her baby. "We're both fine," she said. "Raymond, don't call me 'little one'. I am quite big right now."

To prove her point, she grew up a few inches, and Raymond laughed. "Let me have a look at you," he said.

He waited her nod, before directing his wand at her for a gentle examination. A minute later, he lowered it. "You're both fine," he said, smiling. "You and it."

"I told you."

Linda reached for a cup to pour him coffee and he quickly shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I think I'll take a nap now. See you later."

He barely waited to reach the shelter of his room, before the calm mask fell off his face. He took a deep shuddering breath and tried to compose himself, to convince his own mind that it had been inevitable, that there had been nothing that he could do, that such things happened in each war.

It did not help.

A few minutes later, the door opened. Raymond did not look at it, because he knew who the newcomer was.

Sylvie crossed the room and stood in front of the window behind Raymond. She placed her hand on his shoulder. He reached for it and squeezed it hard. "They were just children," he said, still not looking at her. "Dear Merlin, only children. Three. Muggleborns, at least one of them. He was supposed to start Hogwarts this year, Kingsley said. It was too late when I arrived there. God, the youngest one must have been six."

"I'm sorry," Sylvie whispered, imagining the scene. "I really am, very much." A child. She knew that his failure to save a child's life always affected her ex-husband worse than usual. Children were Raymond's greatest weak point. Many things had changed during the twenty-seven years after their first meeting, but his love for children was not one of them.

He sighed. "It's stupid, of course. They were already doomed to die when I got there. The curses were too violent. I suppose they were doomed even before Kingsley arrived. And yet…they were a family, Sylvie, and they are all dead – the mother, the father, the children. One of them died in my arms, I couldn't do anything." He looked through the window again. "When something like this happen, I wonder why. Why on earth did I study so much and why do I do this job when I can't change anything."

"You do." Sylvie's voice was firm. "I can't count all the times you've helped the others. But this time it was not destined to be so."

He closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against the glass of the window. "Do you want me to tell you a secret?"

Even without looking at her, he could see her curious smile and the sparkle of interest that made her dark eyes alive and shining. He had often said, only half-jokingly, that the reason for Sylvie's choice of work was her inextinguishable curiosity – it was either becoming an Auror or working in a gossip newspaper.

"When I was young, during the first war, each time when I treated a young woman with children, I saw your face in her place – you and one of the kids. Or more than one, according to the number and ages of the children that I was tending to."

Sylvie swallowed hard. She had never suspected, but it did not surprise her. They had been so young when they had been trying to raise their children, to fight a war, and to love each other, all at the same time. It would be only natural for Raymond to see his greatest fears impersonated each time he looked at young families whose life was broken. "And now?"

He shrugged, still with his back to her. "Now, I still see you sometimes, but other times, I see other faces. Arielle, mostly. And sometimes – " He did not finish, but Sylvie knew who he meant. John. Arion. Anath. Anthony and Elle. And another woman. Pamela, his late second wife.

"Well, I suppose it's natural for you to see her. Only, I sometimes wonder whether she would have found it natural that you see me, too."

"I see her, because she was my wife," Raymond said sharply. He suddenly turned around, took her by the wrist and made her look him in the face. "And you won't speak against her. She was a good and faithful wife to me."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Sylvie said leisurely, released her hand and sat on the edge of the bed. "And I know you've been a good and faithful husband to her, too. It's just the way you are." She smiled. "Maybe we should Firecall the children later. When it's all over, I'll find a nice flat – I've always preferred living in a flat – and I will throw myself into female occupations like furnishing, and shopping for curtains and a nice glass coffee table, and Muggle cooking devices, and – "

"Wait, wait," Raymond interrupted her. "What are you talking about?"

"About a flat," Sylvie explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What flat?"

She looked at him with amusement. "Are you trying to make me uneasy by making me say it? Because it isn't working. I'll say it right now. Ours."

Raymond looked at her, his face expressionless. "Wait a bit – are you proposing to me?"

That sounded very much like a similar conversation that the two of them had had twenty-seven years ago and Sylvie could not resist repeating the words that he had spoken then. "Ah no! First you answer, and then I propose to you."

The slight smile in Raymond's eyes showed that he, too, remembered. "If that is not insolence," he repeated her words of that time, "I don't know what it is."

"Common sense." And then Sylvie stopped the game and turned out to be serious. "Common sense, Raymond. I'm asking you this, because I knew that you wouldn't ask me. At least not anytime soon. And I have no desire to lose more time. I am neither twenty-five, nor thirty anymore and I know that pride makes an awful partner in bed."

It was his time to look curiously at her. "I thought Pierre Brazierre was your partner in bed."

She shrugged her delicate shoulders. "He was. He isn't anymore."

Her red hair was shining in the sunlight like the finest silk, her skin was as perfect as he remembered it, but there was a slight, almost invisible web of lines forming in the corners of her eyes and mouth. Raymond had never noticed until now. He remembered how he had sat on the edge of the bed early in the morning, just looking at her sleeping face, sometimes still unable to believe that he had been blessed with a family like his, with a wife like her. Now, he loved her even more – his heart was full of gratitude for the wonderful youth that she had given him, for the children that she had bore him, for all good things that she had brought him during their twenty years together. It was so simple and always had been. She was the love of his life and there had never been any doubt about that. She did not injure Pamela in any way. He had loved his second wife, but that had never been love that filled his heart up to the last. There had always been a recess occupied by Sylvie – she had simply refused to leave it. Pamela was dead. If she were alive, he would have never left her for Sylvie – but it was true that if it was up to him alone, he would have waited for Sylvie to get over the tragedy with John. He had never regretted his choice to leave her, for the children's sake and for his own. That had been the right decision. The only decision possible. And also the one that had broken his heart.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said sincerely.

"You should be. That was the right decision." Sylvie smiled. "Unlike my behavior before that drove you and the children away."

"I totally agree."

"That was the biggest mistake in my life."

"It's true." His eyes were still fixed on her face. "I've never loved any other woman but you."

"Then you're lucky," Sylvie breathed. "Because you are the only one for me ever since I met you near that lake."

"When you ran away screaming?" Raymond refreshed her memory.

"When I ran away screaming," she confirmed. "This time, I'd rather stay."

Raymond raised a hand and started stroking her hair very gently. "You are welcome to."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few hours later…_

"What do you think? Was it worth the walk?" Charles Montresorre asked, although the pure delight on the others' faces made the answer clear.

"It's magnificent," Cissy said as soon as her breathing restored after the long walking and the following climbing.

Green, dark peaks, bathed by the morning rain. The young people were standing on one of them – a sharp-nosed rock that showed them the whole mountain, sprawled beneath their feet. Of course, they knew that it could not be the whole mountain, but it felt like it. There were blue forests, filled with dignity and secrets, cut by bright flower meadows and the silver of quickly running rivers. The meadows looked light green at first sight, but narrowing their eyes, the young people realized that they were all yellow by milfoil, with violet islands amidst them.

They were inside the mountain.

"Look, look how lovely it is!" Arielle exclaimed. She was pointing at the silver-blue vibrating surface of something that looked like a lake and seemed to be moving under the caress of the sun.

Cissy was equally fascinated and even Fred and George were secretly impressed – they had visited Romania because of Charlie and Egypt because of Bill, but they had never been inside a mountain.

Charles Montresorre was smiling. "This is one of my favorite places," he said. "And Cane's, too. We discovered it when we were kids, younger than Lucien."

Cane nodded, still unable to speak after the treatment. At least Magda had taken the tubule off earlier that morning. He had been officially allowed to leave bed – Arielle had simply refused to let him accompany them unless he did.

"And Aunt Elise must have punished you for sneaking away," Arielle said lightly, looking from Cane to Charles. "And I suppose Michel wasn't too happy about that, either."

Charles and Cane both turned red. "No," Charles muttered, "they weren't."

Cissy sat on the grass. For a girl with her style and elegance, she looked notoriously indifferent to the fact that her skirt immediately became wet. Charles looked at the dark spot on the cloth and whistles appreciatively. The girl was not impressed – although Charles had been a year behind her at Beauxbatons, everyone knew that he changed girls like other people changed handkerchiefs. Arielle sat on a big stone and Cane stood behind her back. Fred and George were walking around, looking curiously at every tree. Lucien Montresorre lay on the grass and started crawling toward the edge of the rock to have a look under his feet.

"Did he change into a wolf last night?" Fred suddenly asked.

Charles laughed. "So you've noticed?"

"I thought I was imagining things. So, did he do it?"

"I won't be surprised if he did." Charles was lying on his back with his eyes closed, enjoying the caress of the sun on his face. He was sure that the next thing those twins would ask him would be whether his cousin was an Animagus. How little humans knew about Veelas, actually. Charles had long ago realized that underestimating non-humans was something that wizards often tended to do and he was convinced that one day, they would pay about it dearly. But right now, it would be Veelas who might pay for last night's events. His eyes found Lucien's form – light and happy like he had no trouble in the world. Charles knew that after his cousin had taken part in the battle, Alain would not let him stay in the mountain anymore. He would rather risk taking his son everywhere with him than letting him leave his sight. And that meant that Alain was afraid. After the message that they had gotten just two hours ago: the next Veela who would fall in Voldemort's hands would not be killed, but used for demonstrations in classes at Hogwarts. Just the thought of it made Charles Montresorre sick. And afraid. Very, very afraid.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Meanwhile…_

The wind was howling furiously – more furiously than it should be at this time of the month. The blonde woman wrapped the shawl more tightly around her daughter's face and muttered, "I hate English weather."

Still, the cold could not stop her excitement. Her newest book would be published in less than a week and her editor had just informed her that he had arranged an author's tour in Italy for her. The children would love to see Rome and Naples. God knew that they all needed a little distraction after the tension of the last few months.

Malory started tugging at her mother's sleeve. "Can I have ice-cream?" she asked in her most polite voice.

The woman shook her head firmly. "It's quite cold."

"I am not cold."

"Malory, you know the rules. No ice-cream in October and especially not outside when it is cold."

The little girl scowled. "If I promise I'll practice at the piano half an hour more, will I get ice-cream?"

The mother almost laughed. Malory was able to negotiate just about everything. When she had been three, she had been able to start an argument about how wise it would be to delay her going to bed. Her aunt had been the same once.

"I'm sorry, Malory, but no."

The girl scowled again, but she knew when she had lost an argument.

"Can we have a cab?" Malory adored riding in a cab.

Her mother smiled. "Of course."

In the cab, the child fell asleep in her mother's lap, muttering about how great it would be if they could fly.

"Yes, I think it would be," the woman whispered.

When they got home, the younger child – the boy – was already there. The babysitter had already taken him from the birthday party of his best friend Matthew and he was happily playing in his room. The babysitter, however, was quite another thing – pale and depressed, with bloodshot eyes, she looked as if her best friend had died.

"My God, Mrs. Wilson, what happened?" the mother asked, helping the elderly woman to sit at the kitchen table.

The woman looked embarrassed. "Nothing, Madame, nothing at all."

"Come on, I can see that there is something."

"No, not really."

"Mrs. Wilson, I only want to help you. I thought you knew that."

The woman was becoming more and more embarrassed by each second. "Yes, Madame, but I really can't tell you anything. Nothing happened. I went to take your little boy home and suddenly I felt cold – awful chills. That cold continued for a few minutes and I felt like I would never be happy again. I still can't shake this feeling off, even when I know that there is no reason for it." She laughed uneasily. "Stupid, isn't it?"

The other woman looked at her carefully, before starting to make tea for her. "No, Mrs. Wilson," she said, "I don't think it is stupid. Not at all."

Fifteen minutes later she had said goodbye to her babysitter, insisting that Mrs. Wilson take a cab – she had added the money to her salary – and was now sitting at the table, looking at her own untouched cup of tea. Mrs. Wilson was not the first acquaintance of hers who had described the sudden feeling of cold and unhappiness. The chills. The bad climate. The murders and accidents that were becoming more and more frequent and that could not be explained convincingly enough for her liking. All that could mean only one thing.

"Bloody Dementors," she said aloud. "I thought the Ministry kept them under control. Unless – " She sighed deeply. "Well, that must be it. There is no other explanation. When did you come back, filthy creature? And how many vile things do you intend to pour down on us, Voldemort?"

Thinking aloud had always been a bad habit of hers. A very, very bad habit, indeed. She realized just how bad it was when she heard the first sounds of Apparating near the house.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few hours later…_

Something was going to happen. Arielle had told them that a special Veela ritual would take place, but everyone would have realized that even without her – the air of expectation, tension and anticipation was unmistakable. There was a great fire lit in the middle of the fire and all Veelas were there. Sirius, James, and the others had been invited to the ceremony, although they still had no idea what this ceremony was.

"What are they going to do with him?" James asked. He meant Rabastan Lestrange, who was lying, tied in ropes, near the fire. From time to time, one or another of the Veelas threw a look at him with expressions of pure hatred.

"Veela punishment," Cane mouthed. "A quite cruel one."

"I doubt there can be something that would be too cruel for Lestrange," James said cynically.

The evening was progressing slowly. The first stars had already started glowing, when the music – slow, sad rhythms that soon gained energy and filled the clearing, the wood, the mountain. All Veelas came, dressed in their light robes, recently bathed, with silver hair that was waving freely. Nothing on them or their clothes was knotted or braided.

Alain Montresorre went to the captive and made some gesture with his hand. A blue sparkle shone from his fingers – Veela magic. He bent over Lestrange and untied him.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sirius hissed, taking his wand out of his pocket.

"Put it back!" Arielle hissed in reply, looking around to make sure that none of the Veelas had noticed. "He's preparing him for the punishment."

Sirius looked at Cane, who nodded in confirmation. Well, Cane and, obviously, Arielle knew more about Veelas than he did, so he decided to take their word for it.

Alain placed a wooden flute in Lestrange's hand and, to Sirius' greatest surprise, Rabastan started playing it. Sirius and James shared an astounded look. _Who knew that Lestrange had any musical talent at all!_

The tall, slim girl who had been standing with her back pressed against a tree ran to the fire and started moving in rhythm with the typical Veela grace. That was some sort of signal for the other Veelas who also started dancing around the fire. Alain Montresorre took the hand of a young girl and they started moving like one. Sirius wondered what Margo Saint Claire thought of this. She was sitting on the red carpet not far from him and her face showed only delight by the sound of the music and the sight of the dance.

The night was progressing, but obviously no one thought about time, no one even noticed it. Sirius himself felt pleasantly lost in the night, in the moment and the sweet magic of music.

"Lestrange is tired," James said quietly. Startled, Sirius looked at Rabastan more carefully. It was true, his face was shining with sweat and it obviously cost him a great effort to breathe, let alone play the flute.

"That's his punishment."

It was Margo's voice. Everyone looked at her and she calmly explained, "He committed a crime against a Veela – Lucien Montresorre, many years ago – and that's why he is subjected to the classical Veela punishment – playing the music for them until his lungs burst out."

"I thought Alain Montresorre killed Lucien, his brother," Sirius said.

Margo looked at him almost pityingly. "That's right," she said. "And who do you think tortured Lucien so much that he had no chance to survive and Alain was forced to save him from his agony? I'll tell you: the three Lestranges. Bellatrix and Rodolphus escaped, but this one will pay for all three of them."

Sirius felt chill creeping on his back – her voice was so calm and unconcerned. "Can't you stop it?" he asked. "I mean, if anyone deserves death, it is Rabastan, but… not this way."

Margo did not change her expression. "No, I can't," she said. "And even if I could, I wouldn't do it. He should have thought before messing up with Death Eaters and Veelas. Alain vowed to do that more than twenty years ago and I can see no reason to deprive him of his pleasure. Oh, look! This woman dances extraordinarily!"

Sirius gave her a suspicious look and then realized that she was not trying to stray from the subject – she really had excluded the torture from her mind and was now sincerely enjoying the dance. "Merlin," he said, slowly realizing something. "Bellatrix was right. You _are_ a pair of murderers."

Margo smiled with irony. "She should know. It takes one to know one."

That put an end to the conversation.

Now, other people joined in playing the music and, unlike Lestrange, they did it deliberately. The Veelas started dragging their human partners into the dancing ring. Two young, gorgeous Veelas grabbed Fred and George by the arms and led them near the fire and James laughed when he saw the twins' own version of the movements. Cissy left herself being held by Charles Montresorre and if there was a thought in her head that he had finally had his way with her – something that he had tried many times in Beauxbatons, mostly because unlike the other girls, she never let him – she chased it away immediately. They were in the middle of a war and she was given an opportunity to relax. _Life is given to us to live it. Who can say what tomorrow will bring? Let's play music! Let's dance!_ Cissy suddenly found this philosophy very appealing.

Sirius was astounded, when he saw in front of him Isabelle Delacour. She was inviting him to this provocative dance? _Well, why the hell not?_

He felt very clumsy at the beginning, but Isabelle laughed at his efforts and told him just to let it be and move as he felt. After taking this advice, he really started moving more successfully.

Little by little, he realized the difference between Isabelle and the other dancers. Fully given to the dance, Isabelle still did not intend to make something more of it, like the others seemed to do. Sirius' eyes stopped on two people who were sliding into the darkness with outstretched arms, looking at each other and turning away from each other, getting closer again, carried by the melody. Their eyes hot and dark, they were moving into the ritual of strong attraction, dancing more and more quickly along with the quickening of the rhythm. Until, finally, Alain Montresorre took Margo in his arms, lifted her high in the air and disappeared into the darkness.

"That's a ritual," Isabelle whispered, while she was turning to one side in his arms, "an old Veela ritual. Everything in nature falls asleep now and will awake only when the winter is over. We have to give something to blow into the spring, you know."

He did not.

"Children, conceived during this ritual, are believed to be blessed. My siblings Axel and Elise were such children." Isabelle grimaced and threw a bitter look at James. "Not that it helped them a lot."

Another turn. She was now fully facing him.

"Are you going to finish the ritual?" he asked.

The woman laughed. "No. Are you disappointed?"

He was not sure. After all, she was one of the most formidable women he had ever seen. On the other hand, he would much prefer to be here with Linda Carter.

She suddenly stopped dancing and looked interestedly at the place where Sirius had sat before. He looked too.

Arielle, too tired after all the events that had happened lately, was sitting quietly, enjoying the dance without taking part in it. Cane was sitting next to her, but now one of the oldest Veelas would have none of it – she went to him and made a few movements whose meaning was quite clear. Cane looked hesitantly at Arielle, who laughed and waved her hand. Cane stood up and grabbed the woman's hands. The old Veela and the Metamorphmagus danced charmingly. Many of the others had disappeared into the wood and most of those who had left stopped their own dance for a while to look at the strange couple. The music became quicker than ever and Cane arranged his steps with that, while the woman moved with the graces of someone at least fifty years younger.

In this moment, Arielle stepped forward, pushed the old Veela aside and took her place. "Don't forget to whom you belong to!" she hissed in Cane's ear and laughed.

"No chance that I would ever forget," he mouthed and drew her closer. A few minutes later, he followed the example of the Veelas and disappeared between the woods with her high in his arms.

A rest. A distraction. A moment of bliss, before returning to the battlefield. Sirius laughed to himself when he realized that he was trying not to look after the couple._ Well, there's only a certain number of things that a father should see,_ he thought and took a mental note to avoid this side of the forest like plague – he had no desire to witness what exactly was going on.


	35. Homecoming

**Disclaimer: Just for the record, nothing is mine.**

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed._

Chapter 35

_A few hours later…_

They were leaving in less than five minutes. Michel looked around the simply furnished room and sighed. He loved coming here, enjoyed a simple life away from the hustle and bustle of the normal wizard society. But it was over now. He could not come back here before the battles were over. Before he deserved his peace.

He had very carefully avoided the thought about the second war – he had lost too much in the previous one. Some of the most painful memories that he had of that period were about all those moments when he had been forced to think before answering when he'd been asked how many siblings he had.

"Ready?" Alain asked from the threshold.

"Yes," Michel said. "Go on, I'm coming."

A moment later, his brother wag gone, but then the door opened anew.

"Are you sleepy?" Michel asked.

His five-year-old son shook his head, his eyes wide. Michel had seen this expression on a child's face long ago. He had seen it in his nieces' and nephews' faces during the first war when they had all tried to keep them from knowing what was going on and yet, they knew. He hated seeing it again now.

"Papa, are your medals gold?"

That was quite unexpected. Michel blinked. The boy had been intrigued in his medals ever since he was old enough to know what they meant but he had never asked this exact question.

"Why?"

"Because when you die…"

Michel listened more intently.

"When you die we can bury them with you!" his son announced, excited. "And then we'll go treasure-hunting!"

Michel didn't dare look at him. If he laughed now, Gerard would get insulted and they would part on bad terms.

Fortunately, Sarah came in and saved the day. "Come on," she said impatiently, "we are all waiting for you."

Gerard bounded out. Sarah and Michel looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Now what?" he asked. "They will be waiting for me to die, won't they? And to think that you wanted a third troll!"

Their daughter moved in Sarah's arms without waking. She would probably sleep through an earthquake.

When they got out, there was nobody near the house and Michel assumed that the others must be waiting for them in the clearing. The mountain was veiled with the fine mist which meant that the sun would rise soon. Michel made a step towards the clearing, when he felt that there was someone else in the darkness. Someone was standing in the grey mist. When Michel looked more intently, he saw how the shades parted. Was he imagining things? He tried to get a better look, but all he could see was the mist.

And then he thought he had heard a faint whisper, "Michel… Michel!"

_Merlin, that's Cristian's voice!_ Then, Michel saw him. He was standing at the far wall of the house and looked incredibly young and fragile, all wrapped in mist.

"Cris!" Michel almost shouted, against his will. "Cris!"

"Michel!" Sarah said sharply. "What's going on with you?"

It was obvious that she did not see Cris. He felt a wave of fear. Ghosts were supposed to come back to Veelas only one night in a year – the night of the ritual that had taken place two days before. What was happening?...

Yet, this frame in front of him was his brother. His twin. The person that he had always felt closest to. Why should he be afraid? He made a movement to go to him, but his legs refused to move. "Cris!" he called out again.

Then, the silhouette emerged from the shadow. It was not very clear, but the facial features were unmistakable – Michel's own features, when he had been younger. "Michel, do not Apparate to the usual place."

It was like a faint puff. Like wind whispering in the branches. Michel stretched his hands out, but there was nothing in front of him. All he could feel was some close presence.

Then the shadow silently dissolved in the mist, but kept whispering urgently, "Do not Apparate to the usual place! Do not Apparate to the usual place!"

Suddenly, Michel's numb legs relaxed and he made a few quick steps in this direction. "Cris! Cris!"

But nothing else happened. Nothing.

"I'm okay," Michel told Sarah without looking at her. "Let's go."

"Coming?" Alain asked, emerging from behind them.

"Yes," Michel said. "Alain, I just saw – "

He fell silent. What could he say to him? That he had just seen their dead brother? _Oh, Bendida!_ Now, he himself was not sure that he had not been imagining things.

Together, they went to the clearing, where the others were already expecting them – Cane and his companions would return to London, while Michel, Alain, and Isabelle would stay for a short time to talk to their father before returning to Paris. Charles Montresorre would leave with Sarah and the children for France, but Lucien would stay with Alain. Michel felt embarrassed that he had kept all those people waiting for him and he was ready to Apparate away with Sarah – the only way for humans to use Apparition in Veela's realms was to be Apparated side-along by a part-Veela – when Cristian's warning came to his mind. "I think we'd better Apparate to Rila," he said to Alain and Isabelle.

They looked at him. "A strange whim," Alain said, "but why not? We can leave from there, as well as from here. At the foot of the mountain as usual, right? I'll take Arielle and Mademoiselle Lerois and then I'll come back for the others."

That sounded just fine for Michel, who nodded.

"Is he coming with us?" the earless boy, George Weasley, asked.

"Who?" Isabelle asked, looking around curiously.

"The guy who was talking to Michel a minute ago. Is he coming?"

_Merlin, he saw Cris too!_ Michel felt relieved – at least, now he knew that he had not been hallucinating, no matter how strange the whole thing was. "No," he said calmly, "he isn't."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two hours later..._

"Oh no!" James muttered. "Do these guys really have to spring up out of nowhere?"

"They seem to have finally realized that it's their best chance to meet some of us," Sirius said, pulling his wand out. "Sooner or later, each one of us is passing through this square. Even they were due to reach that conclusion."

"This lady seems really fond of you, Black," Michel said coolly, sending a flame with his fingers at the nearest hooded figure. He meant Bellatrix Lestrange, who was not wearing her mask this time. "Just look how assiduously she's looking for you."

"Oh, her eagerness is shared, believe me," Sirius muttered. "Hey, Bella, here!" he yelled.

"Stop talking nonsense, all of you!" Alain snapped, casting the Killing Curse without the slightest hesitation. "Stay here!" he yelled, grabbing his son's hand, when the boy made a movement as if he wanted to join the battle. "For Merlin's sake, Black, just come inside and take the bloody password out! Lucien and Michel can't enter the house without it."

Sirius nodded curtly and headed for the house. Sadly, the Death Eaters had realized what their enemies' problem was and tried to stop him from entering. Sirius saw Bellatrix' face close enough for him to see the sweat dripping from her forehead.

"Hey, come here!" Isabelle Delacour yelled with the same ill-fitting rage that Sirius had seen in the night of the battle. Sirius saw the flames that flew out of her open palm and licked Bellatrix' hair. He lost no time and used his cousin's distraction to throw himself through the door. A few minutes later he returned to the battlefield, holding the precious passwords. He was not surprised to see the now familiar white wolf jumping at a Death Eater, who was trying to curse James, while his attention was focused on another duel. The wolf – was he an Animagus, or what? – threw himself at the Death Eater and bit his arm with strength that almost ripped it off, then quickly jumped aside and transformed back into a boy, who was shouting the Disarming spell. _Another boy who has never heard of cautiousness,_ Sirius thought. _ Just like Harry and Ron – and Julian, I suspect. I can easily imagine that Cane was not much different when he was their age. _Seeing the way the teenager fought, he understood the reason for this transformation, as well as the earlier one – the boy simply did not know enough curses that could cause his opponents serious harm. _And he should not be expected to _– he is younger than Julian, probably younger than fourteen. It was easier to attack the Death Eaters as a wolf. Where the wolf had come from was a question that would have to wait for later.

No. Lucien did know enough spells. He just changed forms according to how it would be easier for him to attack. Sirius could not help but admire his cool head.

"Here!" Sirius cried and hurried to meet Lucien Montresorre, waving on his way at Michel. The Frenchman realized immediately what Sirius wanted to do and ran to them. "Read this," Sirius said. "Both of you. And try to visualize the house."

"There isn't any house to visualize," Lucien muttered a few moments later.

"I saw it," his uncle corrected him. "Just try harder."

"I am trying!"

Sirius heard someone shouting an unknown incantation behind him and saw the moment when Michel's eyes widened with horror and fear. Without thinking, the fair-haired man pulled Lucien aside and the curse hit him instead, opening a large wound on his chest. The cut started smoking, as if the flesh was burning. Michel gritted his teeth. "Try again!" he told Lucien.

Other people rushed out of Grimmauld Place Number 12. Kingsley. Sylvie and Raymond. Dominic Montresorre. Bill and Fleur Weasley. And some unknown blond woman. All of them on the alert, all of them firing hexes. The Death Eaters lost no time in fighting back.

"Get inside!" Raymond yelled at Michel, his professional training letting him know that whatever curse had hit the Frenchman, it was having a very strong effect on him.

Michel paid no attention to him. Abandoning the others to save his own skin had never been his thing. _I was born to fight,_ he reminded himself, pointing his wand at the nearest hooded figure. He knew that his chances to win the duel were lessening by the minute. His vision was blurring and his head pulsed as if it were crashed by an enormous fist. He tried to find a crack in his opponent's defense and failed.

The attack, however, seemed to be focused mostly on Kingsley and Sylvie. _Of course, they must have met some of these guys before,_ Sirius thought darkly. His suspicions were confirmed when a deep voice mocked, "Aren't you too old for your job, Madame Lupin?"

The words were spoken in French and accompanied by a strong hex, intended to paralyze Sylvie. She quickly cast a shield to defend herself. Her years of practice let her see immediately where the curse would hit her and she shielded only her right shoulder, making the shield just as thick as she needed to repel the charm so she could remove it in a second and attack.

"Care to come closer and see for yourself, Montresorre?" the woman called back. "Come on, I'm waiting! But this time, I'll do a lot worse than just capturing you."

_Montresorre? What the hell is going on? Who is he?_ Sirius saw the resentment and hatred on Michel's face and the way the unknown woman who was fighting not too far from him seemed to stiffen with horror for a long moment. James was looking at her, just as shocked as she was. She did not even notice him.

"I'll admit that you're still beautiful, Sylvie Lupin," Montresorre – whoever he was – said, sounding smug. Sirius could not blame him – Sylvie was now facing not only him, but two other Death Eaters, so she was in quite a tight spot. And no one could help her – they were all too busy with their own duels.

"And so is your daughter. Not as pretty as you, of course," Montresorre added, throwing a quick look at Arielle. Sylvie only snarled angrily. "She reminds me of you – the way you looked when you were her age, when you were going to marry Avery. Did he have a chance to see you like that, Sylvie?"

The next flick of his wand left her green blouse lying torn in her feet. Her left breast immediately started bleeding.

Every other woman would instinctively try to cover herself. Sylvie's instincts, however, were different – during all those years, her job had robbed her of a great deal of her female shyness. She preferred being alive to being decent, thank you very much. So, while the Death Eaters were laughing at her humiliation, she used their momentarily distraction and shot the Killing Curse. _I'm sorry, Arion,_ she thought. With all her heart, she wanted to take at least one captive and gain some information about her son, maybe even something that would give them the chance to set the boys free, but it would not be this time. They could not take a risk by using the Imperius Curse and the Disarming Charm – the Death Eaters were just too much for them and no one could say how long the effect of the curses would last.

"You bitch!" Montresorre shouted.

"Yes, that's the most accurate definition of me. I am a hound. I love hunting the likes of you." Sylvie did not even try to take her blouse back or conjure a piece of material to replace it with. It was not worth it to lose her life because of a stupid top. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arielle, still unharmed, fighting a female Death Eater.

"But I have no manners." Montresorre had regained his previous mocking altitude. "We've met, of course, but we've never been officially introduced to one another. I am Simon Montresorre, the man who'll finally rid the world of you."

"Nice to meet you. Sylvie Saint Claire. I'm the one who'll send you to your grave."

While she was speaking, she threw a Body-Binding curse at the other Death Eater. Sadly, he repelled it. _Think, think,_ Sylvie ordered herself, pointing her wand at Montresorre. _Overcome the pain! _It really worked.

But for how long would it work?

Meanwhile, a few meters away from her, Cane saw his chance when his two rivals simultaneously shot the Avada Kedavra at him. The stupid men did not even notice the way they had cornered him; they were standing just opposite to each other, Cane being the only thing between them. He quickly shrank a whole meter and grinned, when the two green lights collided with two human bodies. He loved being a Metamorphmagus!

While he was growing back, his first thought was Arielle. She was hurrying to the house and he was relieved when she disappeared through the door. Things were hard enough as it was. He did not need the nagging thought about the real possibility of the baby being hurt right now.

He looked quickly around. Kingsley was fighting three Death Eaters, but Sylvie seemed to be the one who most needed help – her movements were slower than usual, she must have been wounded really badly. He ran to her, raising his wand.

Half an hour later, they were all safe inside the house. Raymond was bathing Sylvie's wound and his dark expression showed that the wound was not an easy one. She did not look worried, though – she looked just in pain.

The other victim was Michel. They had to Levitate him because he was unconscious. Sirius, James, the twins, and Cissy seemed to be the only ones who did not understand what had happened to him. Alain looked very worried and so did his father and sister. Lucien just looked terrified. Fleur was visibly trying to suppress her own fear.

Raymond left Sylvie's side and went to Michel, who was lying on the sofa in the living room. "Can I do something?" he asked. "I've never dealt with the spell that they used, but – "

"You can't," Dominic said curtly. "It's a Veela thing."

He bent over his son. "Come on, Michel, you've got to wake up. You can't just sleep the whole day off like that. Besides, you're already safe. Please, wake up."

No effect. Dominic sighed and pointed his wand at Michel. "_Ennervate!"_

Michel's fingers moved faintly, but he did not wake up. His father noticed. "Come on, Michel, come to your senses. Don't be such a drama queen."

Alain and Isabelle simultaneously repeated the Enervate Spell and this time, their brother's eyes flickered opened in his pale face. "Hello."

Isabelle went round the sofa, lifted her brother's head and put a glass of water to his lips.

He drained the water and then smiled at her. "You've always been my favorite, Isabelle."

"Hey!" Alain protested. Michel laughed.

"It's true."

"Well, it's easy to love such a fawner." He paused. "You know that you've been poisoned, don't you?"

The younger man grimaced. "It's hard not to, given the fact that there is a fire burning in my chest."

"The wound is infecting," Dominic said, when he magically removed his son's clothes. "We'll have to purge you with liquid fire."

Michel's face paled even more. "I know."

"I'll cast the incantation," Margo Saint Claire said. "I've done it many times for Alain."

"And you must have done it really well, since he is still alive." Michel smiled tersely. "All right. I'm ready."

Margo turned to Raymond and James. "I'll need your help."

"What can I do?" Raymond asked.

"Hold him tight."

Isabelle conjured towels and bandages, before looking at her brother. "It'll hurt."

"It'll really hurt," Alain added. "Like hell. But you already know that."

"I do." Michel grimaced again. "Ah well, if you're going to do something, do it now."

"Maybe I can give him something to lessen the pain…" Raymond started.

Dominic shook his head. "No medicine can do something for a wound like this. He'll just have to endure the pain. Let's put him on the floor, on his back." Dominic waved his wands and the towels spread themselves on the floor. Dominic and Alain laid Michel on them. For the first time, the others saw the Veela's wound – a nasty long cut with green-yellowish color. The flesh around it had swollen violet, and it was continuing to swell right in front of them. "Raymond, James, hold his ankles. Be careful not to get burned."

"Why are we holding him?" James asked.

"To stop him from moving," Dominic said. "Come on."

While Dominic, Alain, Raymond, and James held Michel down, Margo took a bottle of water, muttering some incantation that almost no one heard.

"You can yell if you want," she told Michel. "God knows that Alain shouted when he was subjected to this. Get ready!" she warned him. "Now!" she said and started pouring the water over the wound.

As soon as the liquid touched the wound, its color changed to that of a dark red-yellow – like a flame. Michel screamed. His body started shaking uncontrollably and he almost managed to break away from the four men's strong hold. The wound itself started seething and smoking, as if his flesh was burning. Margo ruthlessly continued pouring the water. Alain held Michel tighter and his thoughts led him back to the night when he had received his first wound like this one. He remembered the tears that were streaming down Margo's face, while she was dousing the wound on his shoulder with the fire water. Once again, he felt the pain, as if a knife with a burning blade was cutting his skin, flesh and bones.

When the wound was cleaned and Michel took a long, painful breath, Alain looked at Raymond. "Maybe your spells and ointments will be able to lessen the pain now."

Very pale, Raymond nodded and left the room. Dominic looked at Michel and then at Alain and Isabelle. "You had the best of luck," he said. "All of you. There was a great slip in the mountain only a few hours ago. Right at the foot. Your mother contacted me just before you arrived. We were so worried…"

"Merlin!" Isabelle exclaimed. "If we hadn't changed the Apparition location…"

Michel's eyes drooped; he was so tired. "Cris warned me," he muttered and fell asleep. Or lost consciousness. Whatever it was, it helped him escape the pain.

"What was that?" Cissy finally asked in the long silence.

"A gold burn," Isabelle answered shortly. "It is very dangerous for those with Veela blood."

"Oh." But Cissy did not understand…and it seemed that no one else did.

Raymond returned with a suspicious-looking greenish ointment. "All right," he said, checking on Michel and applying the disgusting mixture. "He needs rest. I suggest that we all leave him alone. Maybe Alain would want to stay? Or Margo? Someone who knows what that curse was…because I sure as hell don't." There was indignation in his voice – he took things that he did not know as a personal insult. Things that hurt and mauled people without his knowing what they were was an even bigger insult in his book.

"I'll stay," Isabelle said immediately.

"No, I will." Margo's voice was soft. "I have experience with such wounds and I think you might want to talk to someone. And so would Alain."

The two of them followed her glance to the woman who had stood quietly in the far end of the room.

Their reactions were very different. Isabelle gasped in shock and her eyes watered. Alain's face hardened and he looked at the woman with something like hatred and contempt.

"Not here!" Dominic warned sharply. "You'd better go to another room. You three have a lot to talk about and I can imagine that James – " A quick glance at the man in question " – would like to have some matters cleared up."

"He'll have to clear them by himself," the blonde said, but softly, as not to disturb Michel. Still, she followed the others outside, where, by some unspoken agreement, they divided into two groups: Cissy, the twins, Lucien, Fleur, and Bill went in one direction while Isabelle, Alain, and the blond woman went in another. Without hesitation, James followed them. Feeling that his friend would explode soon, Sirius followed him, which caused Cane and Arielle to change their mind and accompany them – both of them had witnessed the havoc that an angry Sirius Black could cause.

Headed for the bathroom, Cissy heard the word 'fair hair' behind her back, so she turned and warned the twins that one more joke with the h-word in her presence would lead to their hair falling off without growing back in a month. She thought she heard laughter as soon as she turned her back on them.

Two minutes later, she was standing in front of the mirror, looking at her bald head with newfound curiosity. She had never had the opportunity to see her skull before, so she studied with interest its form and smooth white skin. _In less than a month, my hair will grow back,_ she tried to reassure herself.

She was not in her best state, so she decided against taking the risk of Apparate away right now. Instead, she headed for the kitchen, hoping to find a cookie or maybe even two. Instead, she found Lily Carter, who was just leaving a room that Cissy knew was not her own.

As soon as Lily saw Cissy, she stopped dead in her tracks, her cheeks still flushed. Cissy knew that look; she had seen it often enough in the eyes of her Muggle friends when the girls had sighed after famous musicians, movie stars, or world-known sportiest. That was the look of a teenager girl besotted with a creature from the opposite sex. Cissy hardly waited for Lily to disappear from her sight, before opening the door and peering inside. She was astounded to realize that there really was a man in the room – and that he was lying in bed! "What the hell is going on here?" she asked sharply. "The girl is only eleven, you know that?"

He did not move, did not give any indication that he had heard her. Annoyed, she made a step towards the bed, lighting her way with her wand. She would not let this continue.

The form of the man did not change its pose. Cissy made another step towards him.

As soon as she saw him laying there, the light illuminating his face in a way that made him look like a ghost, Cissy understood why Lily liked him so much. She also understood why he had not said anything to her – he was unable to. She was looking at a man who was under the influence of the Curse of the Living Dead.

Cissy shuddered – it was frightening how much he resembled Raymond Lupin. He was younger, of course, and his face lacked the sternness that had marred Raymond's features, but otherwise, the two of them were almost alike. _Well, they should be,_ Cissy thought.

It was strange. She had met John Lupin a few times years ago, but she had never taken much notice of him, just thought that he did not look at all like his siblings Arielle and Arion. He had mot changed since then, but his looks had never had the effect that it was having now on her.

Cissy shook her bald head, as if she was trying to clear it. _But it's ridiculous,_ she thought. _ I can't behave like a teenager who is smitten with her idol and especially not now, when I've just taken part in a battle. And not when he's spent what – five years? – sleeping and will never wake up. It's crazy!_

Then, her weariness made it all stir in her mind – the fact that the curse was called The Curse of the Living Dead; the fact that many Healers had tried to cure John Lupin without success, saying each time that his body was completely healthy; the last night's battle; the Veelas; the ghosts; Elise Lupin….

She suddenly looked at the pale form on the bed, when a new thought came to her. The ghosts. Elise. Raymond Lupin.

Maybe there was a chance for John to come back to life, after all that time. A very slim chance, but it was better than no chance at all.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Meanwhile…_

Once they were in the library, the still unknown blonde turned to Isabelle and the two women hugged so tightly that it seemed that they would never break apart. When they finally did, they were both smiling through tears. "This time, you are staying, aren't you?" Isabelle asked.

"Yes."

"I'm glad."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Then, shaking it off, the woman asked, "What do you think, how long will it take him to recover?"

She was talking to Alain. He shrugged. "I don't know. A few days. A week maybe." He was not looking at her. "Hello, Christine."

"Hello, Alain. Are you sure?"

"I am. I usually need more time to heal from burns like that one, but he is younger." He was still looking resolutely past her.

She sighed. "You thought I would never come back, didn't you?" she asked.

Finally he looked at her and although his face remained calm, something in his eyes betrayed anger. "Thirteen years is a long time to wait…without any word, you know. Without any way to contact you. Yes, I'll readily admit that I had my doubts."

She bit her lip. "Alain…" Isabelle said nervously.

"Oh, leave him be, Belle. I'd rather face everything he throws at me and be done with it. Come on, Alain. Tell me what you think about me."

He shook his head. "Not in front of everyone. Come on!" He grabbed her by the hand and started towards the door.

"Just a moment!" James cut in.

"Prongs, what are you doing?" Sirius hisses quietly. By the look of it, they were witnessing a Veela quarrel and he could see no reason for James to interrupt.

Alain looked at James, surprised. "Yes?"

James looked directly at the woman. "Who are you?" he asked sharply.

She looked at him as if she was looking at a gnome. "I am Christine Lasall. I am the one who I always said I was, _Mr. Potter_," she said. "I happen to know other people who accidentally forgot to tell me that they've changed _their_ identity."

James refused to take the bait. "You are a witch," he said.

"And what of that?"

He was at a loss of words. "You lied to me from the very beginning."

"I never lied to you. And who are you to accuse me of lying, _James Potter_?" Again, she emphasized the name.

"What are you doing here?"

Christine smiled. It was not a nice smile. "Well, given the fact that you didn't find us important enough to tell us that there was a war going on outside…"

"It wasn't like that."

"… I remained blissfully unaware of all the events around it. Yesterday, I accidentally said You-Know-Who's name aloud. And then the Death Eaters came. Fortunately, there were some Order members not too far in the neighborhood, setting up wards just in case." She shrugged. "After revealing myself to be a witch, I couldn't stay at the house any longer. They led us here."

James looked at her, suddenly feeling a new fear. "And what about the kids?"

She gave him a scornful look. "They are upstairs. And they are okay. Don't worry about them, James. I am not the one to abandon my kids. That's your specialty."

"Shut up!"

She gave a snort. "Why? That's just what you did, after all. You found out who you were, you found your son and then decided to pretend that we never existed, that they never existed. Why are you so bothered to hear it spoken aloud?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Oh? Listen to me, James, because I won't say it again: I don't care how it was. My staying here is just temporary, I'm leaving soon and while we're both here, I have only one rule for you: never come near me. Understood?"

"What's going on here?" Isabelle asked, stunned.

Christine sighed. "It's a long story."

"We both want to hear it." Alain's voice was still cold, but there was a hint of curiosity underneath.

The three of them left the room and Sirius looked at James, but he was staring at another direction.

"Christine Lasall," Cane said slowly. "So, that was her."

Sirius looked at him. "I keep forgetting that you are well informed about Parisian wizards and witches. Do you know her? Who she is?"

"She is Elise's sister. Christine Montresorre. Lasall, if we stick to her married name. And no, I don't know her. Maybe I saw her once or twice when I was a child, but I don't remember her."

"This story gets more and more interesting," Sirius stated coolly, before looking at James. "And what about you? Do _you_ know her?"

"Obviously not. But I thought I did. After all, she was my wife."


	36. A Sudden Plan for a Sudden Rescue

**Disclaimer: It's all Jo's.**

_Sorry for the long delay and thanks to everyone who reviewed/_

Chapter 36

_A few hours later…_

"He's waking up!"

Alain's whisper cut through the mist that was wrapping Michel's brain. He made an effort to uplift his oh so heavy eyelids and was confronted with the sight of three faces above him.

"How are you?"

The last night had been obviously hard for his father – he looked incredibly old and tired. Michel made an effort and stretched his parched lips in the best smile he could manage. "I'm okay," he whispered. For the briefest of moments, Dominic's hand touched his son's forehead, smoothing the sweaty white-blond hair. "Did Sarah and Charles arrive safely in Paris?" Michel asked.

"Sarah is on her way here," Isabelle said. "As soon as she heard about the gold burn. Charles too. Mother also wanted to come but she couldn't leave the girls."

'The girls' were the two young daughters – children, actually, too young to attend Beauxbatons – that Alain and Margo's long-lasting relationship had produced. While their parents were busy saving the world, _someone_ had to take care of them and this someone were usually their grandparents.

Michel frowned slightly. "Sarah, Charles and Mother? What on earth were you three _thinking_? What were you planning to do, a wake to watch over the deceased or what?"

Dominic raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm relieved to see that you're recovering handsomely," he said dryly. "Water?"

"Yes, please."

Dominic helped him raise a little, enough to drink the water that he splashed all over him, he was gulping so thirstily.

A stifled laughter made Michel look at the other side and what he saw made him choke again. "Am I seeing ghosts?" he asked.

Christine stepped forward and sat on the bed, reaching for his hands. "I am back," she said. "And I'm staying."

His fingers grasped hers with such strength that she groaned and he apologized. "I am glad," he whispered. The two pairs of blue eyes bore into each other and Christine and Michel both felt the mighty pull that suddenly threw them back into the past…

Cristian and Michel were always Christine's soft spot – they shared her birthday, but theirs was six years after hers. She remembered their walks in _Jardin du Luxembourg_ – her mother pushing the carriage with the two newest babies, Elise and Axel, Isabelle running around and she herself holding the hands of the twins who were making their first hesitant, but no less energetic steps, clutching at her clothes, when they became unsteady on their legs. Years later, she brought her own children – her twins and her infant girl – at the same park. Some of her best memories were connected to the _Jardin_… as well as the people who were now in the room. Looking at Michel, she felt the irresistible impulse to ask him how he was doing, how he had dealt with Cristian's death, how he had coped with raising his nephew when she knew that he had never wanted children. But she didn't dare. There would be time for it later. If they survived this second war, of course. The last one had taken away her husband, her children, her brothers... no! _Oh no, it wasn't the war that took Cris and Axel away from us! It was human stupidity and irresponsibility... the irresponsibility of the man who I loved, who I married, for Merlin's sake_! How on earth was she going to tell Michel? How was she going to meet her mother's eyes and tell her that she had married the one responsible for their loss? It had been bad enough to hear from Linda who her husband really was. It had been more than bad to tell it to her father. She felt a panic attack coming and tried to focus on Michel's face, instead of the fear, but it was almost impossible – the panic was intensified by that dreaded anticipation of the conversation. Christine quickly pulled her hand out of her brother's, before Michel could feel how sweaty it had suddenly become. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

Michel shook his head. "No," he said. "Just tired."

A minute later, he was already asleep. Christine stood up. "I'm going to check on the children," she said, although she knew that she would have to take her pills before she could do anything else. More than fifteen years since the end of the first war, thirteen years since she had been dismissed from St. Lazarre's and proclaimed healed – or as healed as possible – and she was still suffering from depression and panic attacks. How was she supposed to deal with a second war?

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two hours later..._

The mood in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place 12 was below zero. Even Kreacher had deemed it most sensible to keep his muttering for himself, so they were having a blissfully undisturbed breakfast – and a tasty one, too. Recently, Kreacher's cooking skills had started to remind their old self, the one Sirius remembered from his childhood. It had been Hermione Granger's doing. Sirius was told, although how did she manage to get under the house elf's skin, was beyond Sirius.

Of course, the breakfast was undisturbed only as much as the underlying tensions would allow. Dominic's face was grey with fatigue and worry, a small wound from the battle last night still bleeding way too profusely. Christine looked as if she hadn't slept at all. Even her perfect makeup could not hide the fact that she had been crying. Some time last night, Sirius had heard her and James having a blazing row after which James had been furious; only an hour ago, Sirius had seen her in the garden with her brother Alain. They had been quarreling and honestly, for a moment Sirius had thought that Alain would hit her – he had looked so angry, his manners clearly indicated that he might not be able to control his fury much longer. Obviously, Dominic had had the same thought, since he had come out of the house and stood between his son and daughter. Now, everyone was trying to pretend that none of this had happened but the tension was there.

The conversation, as usual, was about Harry, Ron, Hermione and the Horcruxes. Even Molly looked resigned that her youngest son was running around the country chasing the damned things.

"Have you ever thought of taking Ginny out of Hogwarts?" Sylvie asked.

"She doesn't want to hear of that," Molly said reluctantly. "And honestly, I'd rather have her there than running with Fred and George, doing only Merlin knows what."

"I can relate," Lucien Montresorre muttered.

"I'm sure you can." His father's voice was cold and biting. Alain had yet to forgive the boy for being so joyous at the necessity of leaving Durmstrang for his own safety. "I suppose the students do have some plans of their own?" he asked Molly. "Maybe we should coordinate our efforts with theirs, so that they don't do anything brave and downright stupid, like stealing Gryffindor's sword…"

"Since when have you become so judgmental of stupid courage?" Christine asked sarcastically. "I don't remember you ever being this way."

"Since I became the responsible adult when your two children started Beauxbatons," Alain shot back. "While you were busy giving birth to their replacements, you know."

Silence fell. This was so insensitive and cruel. Christine hadn't known. She had thought them all dead – her children, her husband. That was why she had left France and the wizarding world and Alain knew it. Still, he couldn't control his bitterness and anger even of he tried.

For a moment, James looked as if he was about to attack Alain physically before getting hold of himself. His eyes moved from Christine to her brother and back. A boiling conflict written all over his face.

_But he loves her_, Sirius realized, stunned. Considering James' ranting about his soon to be ex-wife, he had decided that it was over between them. Besides, being fair, he just couldn't picture Prongs loving any other woman but Lily. Yet here he was and it was clear that he still had feelings for Christine. And that he didn't know what to do about them.

In this long moment of silence, a crash made everyone jump. Lucien had dropped his glass of pumpkin juice on the floor. Before he could charm it whole again, his grandfather spoke sharply, as if he hadn't noticed that the boy was in the kitchen, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you practicing? What time it is?"

"But, Grandpere, after everything that happened…"

"What of that? You think I've got a new, different schedule for you? Do you really expect to make it in the national team next year if you shirk your practice when you aren't ill, there isn't a battle raging and there is a roof over your head? For all your many makings, sloth is something I never tolerated and I certainly won't start now."

His words were not unfounded – Lucien knew that the national dueling team which his grandfather had been coaching for years – relied heavily on discipline; but Dominic's voice was harsher than what was called for. Lucien looked at Alain.

"Don't look at your father," Dominic said. "He's going to side with you but no one else in the world will ever look at you through your father's eyes, so you'd better learn to cope on your own."

For a moment, the boy looked as if he were about to answer in kind. Then, he clenched his teeth, said, "Excuse me", stood up and left. Dominic had won his case.

Alain looked at his father. Although he didn't say anything, the message was clear, _Don't you dare to treat him like this ever again_.

Strange as it was, the unpleasant scene had given the solemn breakfast some semblance of normality. Soon, the conversation went to dueling and Quidditch – a much needed distraction. Until Vivienne Montresorre's head appeared in the fireplace. Her husband and son immediately went to talk to her. Christine stood behind Sirius' back, terrified that her mother might notice her – for the last twenty-four hours she had had enough family quarrels to last her a lifetime.

"How is Michel?" Vivienne asked immediately, her face gaunt with worry.

"We have it under control," Dominic assured her. "As I already told you, no vital organs were affected and we doused him on time. He already woke up and fell asleep again. He'll be okay."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's this on your cheek?"

He cursed under his breath, realizing that he had forgotten to cast the Illusion charm that would keep the small bleeding wound on his face from showing. He didn't want to give her any cause for concern but there could be no hiding now. "I have it under control."

"Dominic…"

"Is something the matter?" he interrupted. "Except for Michel, I mean."

"Is Remus there?" she asked. "I had an own from Beauxbatons… Morgaine is said to misbehave abominably..."

The rest of her words was drown by the sudden arrival of a Patronus – the same silver ounce that Sirius had seen warning them about the Death Eaters' attack on the Veelas. The green fire in the fireplace flared up and died, cutting the connection. Vivienne's face disappeared.

As it had done before, the Patronus stopped in front of Margo Saint Claire and spoke in a male voice: "At nine o'clock this evening, there will be an attack near the Trafalgar Square. Not sure about the exact location. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy will be there – their last chance to win his good graces."

A moment later, it was gone.

"Trafalgar Square," Sirius said slowly. "They aren't stupid. There will be at least ten victims this night."

"Eight," Cane corrected him, deep in thought.

"Why?"

"Because tonight, we're going to use the attackers to get Arion and Noel out of there."


	37. Preparing for a Deception

_Disclaimer: All belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling._

**Sorry for not ****updating so long. I had other things to deal with and besides, it was too hot for me to gather my brains together properly.**

Chapter 37

_Two hours later..._

It had been established long ago that the kitchen would be the assembly-point of the Order. Now, everyone who was of age – except for Sarah who was with her husband – had gathered around it and there was a serious discussion going on – they were defining their plans for the course of action they would take this night.

"First, we have to separate Draco and Narcissa Malfoy from the others without raising suspicions," James said. "We can manage it. I can be one of those who would stand between them and the others."

"I can be the other one," Raymond said. "Sylvie will take care of them. And don't forget, Sylvie, that – "

"Yes, yes, no killing them," his ex-wife interrupted, exasperated. "I know, Raymond. I can do it. Then, I can take one of them... in fact, I think I could manage both, but let's not take any chance _or_ lose time – "

"I'll take the other one," Bill Weasley said. "Then, we take them to Cissy's flat – we had to go there beforehand, to know the exact location – "

"After the meeting, I'll take everyone there," Cissy promised. "So, we take them and keep them there until the end of the operation."

"I'll morph into the boy," Cane said. "And you, Cissy, must come with me – I need someone with Malfoy blood in their veins, otherwise the Manor just won't let me in."

She nodded briefly. "I will come."

"But how are you going to organize it?" Fleur asked. "Last time I checked, you weren't a Metamorphmagus."

"No," Cissy agreed, "and I am still not one."

"Polyjuice Potion? Is that what you are thinking about? Or are you going to pretend to be Cane's – Draco Malfoy's – captive?"

Cissy laughed. "No. The idea is good, though – we should have a captive. Three is stronger than one." She looked at Sirius. "I've heard that Narcissa Malfoy is a beautiful woman," she said, obviously beside the point.

Sirius looked surprised. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," he answered. "Although I've never found pale faces and hair attractive. No blood, no – "

He winced, when he realized just how rude he had sounded. Fleur and Cissy were looking at him icily, Christine was torn between insult and amusement. Isabelle could barely stop herself from laughing.

"Ladies, this really isn't the moment," Dominic Montresorre said firmly and to Sirius' amazement, three of the ladies in question shrugged and decided to move on. A moment later, Cissy did the same. Bill Weasley was looking at the old man, visibly impressed – and so was James. Sirius could bet his precious motorbike that they were trying to memorize Dominic's manner and voice for further use for themselves – it would be good for them to know how to deal with the Montresorre women.

"Why are you asking about Narcissa?" Sirius asked.

Cissy shrugged. "Mother says that my complexion and hair resemble hers a lot," she said.

Sirius politely refrained from pointing out that right now, the girl had no hair to speak of, resembling Narcissa's or not. Instead, he looked at her as clinically as he could. "I suppose it's true," he said. "But no so much for you to pass for her, if that's what you have in mind."

Cissy smiled broadly. "Oh, I think I will," she said. "Don't forget that I descend from a family that runs a cosmetics company. I only wish I already had my hair grown back. I'll have to find myself a wig, I suppose."

There definitely was excitement in her voice and although Cane was trying to hide it, he obviously felt the same way. _Well, youth is optimistic_, Sirius thought, remembering the way that he had been at their age. _The world was ours, we only had to reach out and take it. We were going to save the world from Voldemort, reform the Ministry, rid the world of Slytherins, all that while living our love at full speed and raising our kids as happy children_. He looked at Arielle, who looked so young and fragile, and the memory of Angela almost took his breath away. Yes, that was how Angela had looked like – pale, and sick, and emaciated, during the first months of her second pregnancy, the one that had been affected irrevocably by the Unforgivable Curse. "You aren't going to take part in the battle," he suddenly said, feeling the roughness in his own voice. Everyone looked at him, surprised by his sudden meddling in things that were only between Arielle and Cane. The girl, however, simply nodded.

"I wasn't planning to," she said.

Kingsley coughed meaningfully and everybody looked at him. "All this is wonderful," he said, "but only if there is an attack this night."

"There is," Margo said with utter confidence.

"Yeah, I saw the Patronus, but… do you trust the person who sent it?"

Her voice was cold. "Absolutely."

"If you told us who he is – "

"I am not planning on doing this," she answered immediately.

He hesitated: it was not that he suspected her of being a traitor, but he practically didn't know her. If there was a trap set for this night, they could lose people because of her trust in her unknown informer. How could he force her into revealing his identity?

Sylvie had felt his concern. She looked at him with the same calm, clear eyes that he had seen in France during their first lesson – when he was still a young trainee, sent in France on exchange program and appointed to her, one of the most famous Aurors in the Ministry there. "Kingsley," she said, "trust me. I know the person and trust him. Please, just have faith in my judgment."

He nodded reluctantly. He trusted Sylvie. Not that he had to like her secretiveness but he trusted her.

"So," she asked, "who would be the captive?"

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_An hour later…_

Hesitantly, James raised a hand and knocked at the door. "Yes?" her voice came, he took a breath and entered.

Christine was standing in the far end of the room, her wand – where had she gotten one from? – pointing at the wall, where she had drawn a few dark circles. She had been obviously practicing her aim. Her hair had escaped the hair-slide and was falling in wild, lovely disarray on her shoulders, her lips were opened slightly with concentration. She was still so beautiful and looked livelier than she had had in years. Everything he wanted right now was to take her in his arms and erase everything that had come between them.

When Christine saw him, her welcoming smile froze. "Are you looking for Linda?" she asked.

"No." Actually, he knew that Linda was on the lower floor – he had checked on her, before coming here – he did not need any witnesses for this conversation. "I wanted to talk to you."

She considered this. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Take a seat."

Encouraged by her behavior, James did so. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that reconciliation was not at all what Christine had in mind. "I suppose you want to discuss the support money," she said. "I understand that you descend from an old wizard family – and wealthy, as well. I need to know more about that, before I formulate my demands."

"Your - ?" he asked, startled.

Christine's eyes narrowed. "I suppose you wouldn't want to deprive the children from anything?" she asked sharply. "I am provided for and I can take care of them myself, but I think it's fair that you should take part, too. Or has your feeling of responsibility towards them changed along with your identity?"

James almost sighed. He did not like the course this conversation was taking. What he liked even less was the fact that she was not trying to piss him off – she really thought that his feelings had changed. "I don't economize on my children," he said, "but that isn't the matter."

"Then what is it?" she asked. "I'll let you know what my intentions are: I'll move to Paris as soon as the divorce is official. Malory and Dominic, of course, will come with me."

"The hell they will!"

Christine slowly lowered her wand and went to sit on Linda's bed. "What's wrong with you?" she wondered aloud. "I thought you'd be happy to enjoy your new life in the wizarding world after being rid of us, as you obviously wanted to be."

James was completely taken aback. "What? Do you hear yourself?" he asked, repulsed.

"Yes, I do."

"Then how can you… ?"

"Listen, let's not talk about that right now, okay? I am still too happy to be reunited with my family and I'm not in the mood for quarreling."

"Ah yes, your precious family," James snorted. "It seems that your sister is the only one of them who can bear to look at you. Your brother Alain looks as if his heart's desire is to beat the hell out of you and your father is holding him back just because he doesn't want any quarrels. Are you really this happy?"

Her eyes flashed. " You know nothing, James Potter," she spat.

"Why I was never told that they existed?"

"Why was I never told that you've remembered your former life?" Christine shot back. "I didn't tell you, because this didn't _concern_ you in any way. I never planned on going back to France or the wizarding world so it was not relevant. The change in _your_ circumstances, however, certainly concerns your children and I, as their mother, should have been told. Instead… "

"Christine, let's stop it," James interrupted. He could see that she was getting really angry. She was making _him_ angry, too, with her assumptions that he would want to get rid of her and the kids. "I wanted to talk to you about something else."

"I'm listening."

"Christine, I don't want to divorce you. We have two wonderful children and everything we need to be happy. Let's stop it. We can have everything we used to. It can be even better now, when we know everything. I… "

She laughed, but it did not sound too merrily. It sounded more like wail. "And I thought I was the insane one," she said. "Is that your idea of a joke?"

"I am deadly serious."

"You are deadly stupid, if you think that _these_ revelations will make me come back to you," Christine snapped.

James did not pretend not to know what she was talking about. "I am sorry about your brothers," he said. "I _am_, more than you can imagine."

"Oh really? And what does it change?" she asked mockingly. "Are they _less_ dead now when you are sorry?" She made a show of looking around. "Are they going to walk through that door any moment now?"

"It isn't funny."

"No," Christine agreed. "No, it isn't. Not at all. And do you know what? There is another thing that isn't funny: the way that everybody thinks you are a hero – you and your Lily, may she rot in hell! Oh, they are heroes because they died for their child," she continued, her voice pitched in cruel imitation of admiration. "The truth is that you and she are nothing but common thieves!"

"Shut up!"

"Why? Does it hurt?" she asked. "That's the truth, you stole life from three young people and an unborn baby to save your own skins."

"You are disgusting."

"And you aren't?" She snorted. "_I _didn't kill anyone, James Potter."

"Your bloodthirsty sister tried," James reminded her. "She tried to kill Lily."

Christine's fingers moved faster than he had thought possible and he yelped in surprise, when the little flames touched his skin. She held them there for a few moments, before letting them die. It was not a magic that he knew. _It's a Veela enchantment, _he realized and startled_. I married a woman who is so different that I cannot even begin to understand it._ "Don't you date to speak ill of my sister," she hissed. "_Never_. She did what she had to do. Pity that she failed."

"Are you serious?" James asked quietly.

"Absolutely." Christine laughed roughly. "Actually, I did something to make up for what she couldn't. When your Lily had the audacity to show up at St. Mungo to say that she was sorry – I have no idea where she learned about what you've done, by the way, - she carried away a little curse of mine… What, are you surprised?" she mocked.

"Yes," he answered honestly. She had always been so secretive about her family. How could he know that they meant so much to her? And he was horrified by her hard-heartedness. Had she really cursed Lily in some Veela way? She was probably just making it up to torment him further.

"Am I supposed to be moved to tears by yours and Lily's tragic fate?" Christine demanded.

"No."

"Good. Because I am not."

Silence.

"Bendida, what a mess!" Christine's voice had become shrill. She was furious at everyone – at the long-dead Lily, at James, at herself. God, how many times had she lain next to him, thinking of the awful day of the boys' death and hating him without even knowing that it was him who she hated? God, now she hated even _Henri_, for getting himself killed. If he had stayed alive, she would have never looked at Michael Jenkins and wouldn't have found herself married to _James Potter_, of all people.

"I am sorry. I – we – we never meant to hurt anyone. You're the last person I would want to harm."

"Well, you managed it so well _not_ trying, I'm afraid to think what it would have been if you _wanted_ to!"

"It happened so long ago. For Merlin's sake, it's in the past!"

"Yes," Christine replied hoarsely. "It's in the past. _They_ are in the past – Axel, Cristian… Maddie. And her baby, who was never given the chance to live." She looked at him, her eyes cold gray. "For you, it's past, but for me, it's present. I'll have to deal with it _now_. Do you have any idea how I felt, when I learned that I had married the man who I had cursed hundreds of times?"

She stood up and went to the window, leaning against the wall, turning her back to him. James felt a sharp pain, while he was watching her. From now on, it would be like this every day. At the same time, he was angry with her – it _was_ in the past, why did she have to make theatrics of it? "What do you want me to do, Christine? It's over. It's all over. What do you want of me?"

"I want you to tell the kids one day. I want you to explain to them why they only have two uncles on their mother's side when there should have been four. Try and explain to them why their cousin Charles doesn't have parents." Her shoulders shook with laughter or maybe weeping.

_The child. Of course_. Remus had told him that Madeleine Montresorre had died delivering a _second_ child. That meant that there should have been a _first_ one. A boy, who had grown up without parents, just like Harry. _And I am the one to blame_, James thought horrified.

"If you're planning on turning the children against me… " he started, his anger finally starting to show.

"I am not planning of turning them against you! And even if I did, what do you care? You are the one who is ashamed of them."

For a long, awful moment James thought that she was going crazy – not having a panic attack, but really going crazy. He stood up, went to her and forced her to turn around, so he could see her face. "I am not ashamed of them! How could you say that?"

"You _left_, Michael. I mean, James." She had obviously been crying, but she was trying to get herself under control. "You just left, not looking back, not even thinking about them."

"That's a lie!"

"How many times did you come to visit?" Christine yelled. "How many times did you call?"

"I couldn't."

"Really? Why is that, did you have another memory loss – one that has erased Dominic and Malory from your head?" she asked with false concern. "Or was it too difficult to dial the phone number?"

"No, but I – "

"And how many people here knew about us?" Christine went on. "No one! Because you didn't want to ruin your image by acknowledging that you didn't spend all these years longing for Lily, although you couldn't remember her. You didn't want people to know about _my_ kids, because you wanted to be known only as the father of The Boy Who Lived. All of all, you were ashamed of our life together. You were _ashamed_ of being married to me – a Muggle, you thought then, and an insane one at that. And you were ashamed of being a father of _my_ children."

James reached to touch her shoulder, but she pushed his hand aside. "I was never ashamed," he said. "Christine, you don't understand. I was confused for a while, but that didn't last long. I love you and I love our kids. I could never be ashamed of neither of you."

Christine sighed, rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I don't think you're telling me the truth," she said. "And I'm not planning on hanging around long enough to find out whether I am right or not either. Leave my room."

Of course, she had hit the nail here. Denials to her aside, James _had_ been ashamed of them. But he had had no idea that she knew it!

He did the only thing he could – he did leave, but not without a clear warning. "There won't be any divorce, Christine. And no moving to France. At least, not with the kids."

"Get out of here!" she yelled and threw a pillow at him. She missed, but James got the message. He left, before her frenzy could lead him to answer in _her_ way.

-–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Three hours later…_

The apartment that Cissy rented in London was a funny mess of Muggle and wizard furniture and devices. As soon as Sirius entered, he started chuckling, because he felt like he had found himself in a cheerful cocoon. He briefly wondered what his dear old Mum would have said about her pureblood granddaughter's choice of furniture.

The flat consisted of two rooms – a kitchen and a living room that was also a bedroom. It was painted in yellow, as if the sun was constantly shining in here. Cissy had found a set of furniture from XVIII century and then had transfigured the sofa, so it could extend like an extending spring-bed. Ridiculous. The old armchairs that accompanied the sofa were changed to fold around the body of the sitting person, so he would feel as comfortably as possible. Cissy had a new stereo system and an old TV. She navigated both with her wand as often as the remote control- a combination known to be dangerous. One day, she might blow the flat up but until then, it looked just fine to him. In fact, the TV was still on – the screen was showing clips of romantic French songs, quite old, if the attire of the performers meant something – she had obviously forgotten to switch the TV off when she had left. Cissy had a coffee table and two other tables, smaller; all three of them were shining black and glossy. The carpet was black and yellow, four bright red modern lampions were delegated to the four ends of the room. There were flowers everywhere – on the tables, in big vases on the floor, on the window sill, on the old piano. The shelves on the wall were heaped with books, both Muggle and wizard ones.

The kitchen was an entirely Muggle one – it contained two chairs, a small table, a refrigerator and a coffee machine. It was obvious that Cissy could not cook and that she did not even try.

Cane, who had already been here, was not interested in looking around. Instead, he made his way straight to the coffee machine and started making coffee for everyone.

"We must secure your wards," James said. Cissy nodded. "May I check them?"

"Yes, you may," she answered. "Just be careful."

"Take that to heart," Cane advised. "She really means it."

Ten minutes later, James, Raymond, and Kingsley, who had accompanied them here, were feeling very smart and victorious after escaping the fate of being drowned, burned, Crucio-ed, blinded and etc. by Cissy's wards. And that was from the _inside_, when they've been just probing them. They certainly wouldn't want to try them from the _outside_. If they managed to break through the barrier that made the door elastic and resistible to curses and the lock – invisible each time someone touched it with magic, of course. "Can I place some extra protection?" Kingsley asked.

Cissy shrugged. "Be my guest."

They were just sitting around the joined tables, drinking coffee, looking absent-mindedly at the running TV and discussing their plans, when there was a sudden ringing that made everyone jump and grab their wands. It was coming from Cissy's pocket. "What's that?" Sirius asked.

"My cell phone," she answered, fishing her pocket for the small thing. Sirius and Cane watched with great interest, while she was putting it next to her ear, listened for a moment and then said something in quick French.

"What's a cell phone?" Sirius asked.

"It's like a telephone, just not fixed in one place," James said.

"But how does it work?" Sirius wondered aloud. "This thing doesn't even reach her mouth. How can the person at the other end hear her?"

Cane, who had entertained himself with Cissy and Noel's cell phones years ago, still had no idea. "Just accept it that he can," he answered. "That's what I do."

"My mother is outside," Cissy said. "I'll bring her in. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She stood up and left the room. A moment later they heard the noise of the closing door.

"Maybe the two of you shouldn't take part in the battle tonight," Sirius said. "We can't risk something happening to you. You are the most important people in the plan."

"I thought about that," Cane confessed.

"Good."

A few minutes later, Cissy came back, accompanied by her mother. Selena was carrying a small suitcase with make-ups that Cissy would apply to make herself as similar to Narcissa as possible. She looked pale and nervous. Since the last time he had seen her, she had lost a lot of weight and looked emaciated. The rouge could not hide her colourless cheeks and she was constantly wringing her hands. Sirius could only sympathize with her. He was deeply worried that Cane would go in the middle of the hornets' nest; how she dealt with the thought that this night can bring both her children the worst fate possible, he didn't even want to imagine. "Where's Jean Paul?" he asked and immediately realized that he shouldn't have done it.

"He has an important meeting later in the afternoon," Selena answered wryly, but Sirius knew that her anger was directed at her husband, not him. She did not even sit down. "I'll make coffee," she said. "Anyone else willing?"

"Yes," everybody answered at once and she went to the kitchen.

Sirius gave her two minutes, before discreetly following her. She was standing in front of the kitchen plot, arranging with nutty precision cups and saucers on a tray. Sirius stood behind her and put his hands on her back, rubbing hesitantly. He had seen Regulus do it to her hundreds of times – it seemed to have a calming effect on her. He could easily imagine the quarrel that had taken place in her luxurious home mere hours earlier – Selena insisting that Jean-Paul should come with her to Britain, he answering that the meeting was crucial and he could not postpone it and anyway, he was not a wizard, so his presence would not _change_ anything. Then Selena again, accusing him that he acted this way, because he didn't care enough, because Noel and Cissy were not his real children. Sirius was sure that she had said that, he knew her well enough. Jean-Paul again, explaining that it wasn't true, trying to defend himself against her accusations, Selena, refusing to accept his reasons and leaving the room, slamming the door shut.

"Better?" he asked after a few minutes and let his hands drop.

Selena turned round and gave him a smile, although a faint one. "Much better. Thank you, Sirius."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same evening…_

_Only a few__ more minutes_, Arielle thought and snuggled back against the pillows. _I'm going to lie down just a few minutes more_. She could hardly believe how bad she had started to feel in less than a day. _It's because of the moon_, she thought. Her body, long ago having used to the Wolfsbane Potion, wanted it, wanted it terribly and the baby had chosen to voice its presence just in that most inconvenient of all times. Arielle was relieved that Cane had spent the afternoon at Cissy's, because she did not want to make him nervous or afraid. She had spent it in bed, fighting a terrible headache and nausea and the feeling that each bone in her body stood on its own. Her mother had spent a few hours with her, making sure that she ate, but Arielle had finally asked her to leave her alone. She longed for solitude and besides, Sylvie had to prepare for the meeting with the Death Eaters.

_Am I making a mistake_, Arielle wondered. _Could it be true that I won't be able to carry the baby to full term? I am only in the beginning and look what's happening already! How is it going to be in the sixth or seventh month? Would all that have been in vain? Would I miscarry at a further stage? And if so, why am I inflicting this on both myself and Cane?_ She tried to push these thoughts aside, but they refused to leave her alone. _Merlin, how tired I am! And how cold_! She took her wand that was lying on the bed next to her, made the fire in the fireplace stronger and placed a heating charm on the bed. Only a minute later, she was fallen into a mix between sleep and daze. Soon, she started to feel awfully cold again, but there was not enough will in her to make her wake up and repeat the charms.

That was how Cane found her – rolled up into a ball, stuporous, shivering with cold into a room so hot that he felt his brow sweating upon entering. Arielle was by no means a tall woman, but now she looked shrinken under the thick covers. She was as pale as death and her teeth were chattering. He looked at her horrified and touched her shoulder. "Arielle! Arielle! Wake up!"

She did not move.

_What am I going to do?_ For a moment, he thought of calling her father, before remembering that Raymond had not come back to Grimmauld Place with him. He could call Linda, who was a doctor. Yet – a Muggle doctor. What did she know about Wolfsbane Potion and moon inflictions? No, he had to do something by himself. He was the one who had to pull Arielle out of this state. Without hesitation, he took her slight body into his arms and carried her to the fireplace. Then, he Summoned a blanket and placed her on it. Quickly scanning her nightgown for any bloody stains, he started to rub her arms. "Arielle," he whispered. "Please, Arielle, wake up."

A few minutes later, the warmth already penetrated through her body, she moved slightly. She looked at him through the red locks of hair falling on her face and looked aside, as if she had nothing to tell him. He kept on massaging her arms.

"I am sorry," Arielle whispered finally.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Cane said gently.

"I can't believe it happened today. You need to be calm for playing your part and I'm just laying a burden on you."

Cane slowly helped her turn to one side, so he could rub her back as well. "It's not your fault," he assured her. "All will be fine. I'll be back safely. And I'll bring Arion with me."

She smiled faintly. "I want so badly to believe you…"

His hands moved under her nightgown, her skin feeling unnaturally hot at his touch. "Then do so. I'll do what I need to, Arielle. And so will you. Lie here and rest, that's all one can want of you right now."

Her hand suddenly grabbed his, her nails digging painfully in his flesh. "How can I help you?" she asked.

"By believing in the morrow."

It was half past eight; half an hour was left before the attack. Arielle slowly pushed herself to sitting position, not letting go of his hand. In this moment, she could hardly believe that she had pushed him aside for years. It felt so natural to sit next to him in front of the fireplace, silently sharing her fears and hopes. _Better with you, through thick and thin, than without you_, she had heard her Aunt Margo saying to Alain. She could hardly believe that she had been so stupid.

There was a soft knocking at the door and Cane said 'yes'. Fleur appeared at the door and hesitated to step further, seeing them sitting close to each other in front of the fireplace. "Is it time for us to go?" Cane asked.

"No, not yet."

"Then what is it? I can see that there is something troubling your mind. Come in and close the door."

Fleur made no comment about the hot room, but she stood in the far end. "I've just got the monthlies," she said. "Two weeks late."

Cane looked at her. "You were hoping that you were pregnant?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Then what is it?"

Fleur hesitated again, looking at Arielle. It was not a topic that she felt like discussing in front of her sick, pregnant friend. But Arielle only smiled. "Come on, Fleur, I am not made of glass. It can't be this worse than your constant chatter about Bill Weasley and oh, will he ask me to a date and later, do you think he fancies me – "

She had a good acting skill and Fleur and Cane both laughed, the tension in the room disappearing for a moment. "You'll have children, Fleur," Cane said. "Lots of children. Now just isn't the time."

"Is there ever going to be 'the time'?" Fleur suddenly asked, almost inaudibly, her beautiful face tensed, her eyes worried and sad. "What would happen if I never manage to give birth to a child?"

Cane and Arielle looked at her, stunned. He was the first one to come around. "Where did that come from?" he asked. "Are you insane, or what?"

Fleur slowly turned her head aside. "Aunt Elise had – how many? Three? Four? How many miscarriages did she have?"

So, that was it. Cane was surprised that he hadn't thought about that earlier. But then, why should he? It was all in Fleur's mind, he was sure of that. Werewolves and Veelas did not mix well, but she was only part-Veela and Bill wasn't a werewolf.

"Because Remus is a real werewolf," he said, soothingly. "Because he has the infliction in its full form. Bill isn't a werewolf. And Elise was a half-Veela, not a quarter, like you. There is no reason to fear that you'll meet the same problem. And think of that: even Elise managed to give birth to Morgaine."

She looked at him again. "I know it's silly," she admitted, "but I cannot help it." Suddenly, she smiled widely. "But I feel better now, knowing that you think of the idea as 'insane'. Come on, it's almost time for us to go."

Cane looked at the clock. "There is still time," he said. "Fleur, I want you to stay with Arielle."

"But I was supposed to take part in the ambush," she objected.

"There is no need, Cane, I can manage by mo own." Arielle said at the same time.

He looked at Fleur with silent plea. _There are many people who can participate in the ambush, _his eyes were telling her_. But there isn't even one who Arielle feels calmer next to._ "All right," she said and for a moment, the three of them were deep in thought about the upcoming events, about whether they would manage to smuggle Arion and Noel out, about what would happen in the morrow that Cane had asked Arielle to believe in.

Cane stretched out a hand, Fleur stepped forward and took it and he pulled her down beside him, so he could hold them both. "Bet you we brush through this," he said bravely. "Bet you we kick the Snake's ass, and confound them all, and this time next year Arielle and I have a baby in the cradle and Fleur is expecting a child of her own."

For a few moments, they stood like that and then Cane slowly rose up. "I must go," he said and kissed Fleur's cheek. "Thanks," he whispered, before leaning forward to plant a kiss on Arielle's lips. "I'll be back," he said. "With Arion."

They could only hope that he would be able to keep his word.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––


	38. A Rescuing Mission

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Still._

**Thanks to everyone who has been ****kind enough to leave a review.**

Chapter 38

_A few minutes later…_

"Cane Black?"

Cane immediately turned toward the voice, wand in hand. He did not lowered it even when he recognized the dark profile. „Messier Lerois?" he asked in French. And then, suspiciously, "What did you say, when Noel wished to go to Malfoy Manor?"

The dark brow frowned in confusion. "What – ah, you want to check. I told him that I have no desire to see him going there, but I couldn't stop him."

Cane relaxed. "I suppose you want to visit Cissy?"

"That's right."

"Come with me, that will spare you the necessity of calling her on cell phone. Stay close and no matter what happens, don't move in front of me."

Cane carefully removed the wards and let Jean Paul Lerois enter Cissy's flat. The way Cissy bolted out of the kitchen told him that the others had not come back – that they were waiting for them. Cissy's face was pale with anticipation, surrounded by her new silver-blond wig. Cane suspected that his own face looked no different. "Papa!" she exclaimed. "Oh I'm so glad to see you!"

He hugged her. "Ready for your big night?" he joked.

She grinned. "Yeah, something like that."

In the kitchen, Selena stood up as soon as she saw her husband. "What are you doing here?" she asked and there was unmistakable hostility in her voice.

He ignored it. "I didn't go to the meeting," he said. "I was at the door of the conference room, when I realized that I just couldn't enter. I couldn't sit there and talk about business, when at the same time Cissy and Noel are both in mortal danger. I turned back, left the hotel and phoned Alcadi to prepare the jet."

Selena sighed, not saying anything. Her hand found his and gave it a squeeze.

A few minutes later, there was the click of a door that was being opened. Cissy ran in the hall and with immense relief saw Sirius, who was Levitating a figure in a dark cloak and a Death Eater's mask inside. He saluted her with a broad grin and a maniacal glint in his eyes – the exhilaration of the battle. How often she had seen this glint in Cane's eyes, at Beauxbatons. "I take it that all went well?" she asked.

He grinned. "Not a single casualty of our side. And three captives." He Levitated his own into the kitchen and nodded at the people inside, his eyes lingering on his son. "Cane Black, let me present you your future self for the next few hours," he announced dramatically. "Draco Malfoy!"

A few people gasped when the mask was torn off the boy's face. Selena went very pale, her husband's jaw clenched, and Cissy felt the desire to land her fist into that pale face, smashing it and its resemblance to Noel – and to Cissy herself – into pieces.

Finally, it was Raymond who broke the spell by looking carefully at Malfoy, before announcing, "Actually, he doesn't look like Noel at all."

It was as if his word broke some trance that had been reigning over the room for the last few moments. Now, everyone could look at the captive with detached eyes and there was no doubt that Raymond was right: although the features of Draco Malfoy and Noel Lerois were almost identical, their faces could not be more different. Malfoy's face was pale and languid, showing some mulishness, but not intelligence, while a single look at Noel left the impression of strength and power of attraction, his deep set eyes under the straight eyebrows were shining with fire and brightness – he looked like a man who was driven only by dream and will. They could not be more different, truly.

Cane stood in front of Malfoy, looking at him very intently. Then, in a single moment, he closed his eyes and when he opened them, they were grey. He was the perfect duplicate of Draco Malfoy. "Well?" he asked, pleased with himself, after having checked himself in the mirror.

Cissy shook her head. "No way," she said. "Unless you take this expression off your face. You still look like Cane Black, only in Draco Malfoy's body."

Cane sighed. "Ah Cissy, right you are." He started examining Malfoy's face carefully, before returning in front of the mirror, where he started practicing different expressions. Selena and Jean-Paul looked at him, amazed, Sirius and Cissy almost laughed at his concentration – he looked like one of those models posing for a photo session! – and even the captive, quite forgotten for a while, looked at the Metamorphmagus with the slightest of interests.

That was how the others found them – James, Remus, Sylvie, Kingsley, all Weasleys available, Alain, Margo, Dominic, and Charles Montresorre. They filled Cissy's little flat to the point of thronging, but it didn't matter, because they had two more captives with them. As strange as it was, Lucius Malfoy did not have a wand, even one taken from him during the battle. Selena needed to look twice at Kingsley who was Levitating him. The Auror shook his head, showing her that no, Malfoy really did not have a wand.

"Well, good evening, Lucius," she said. "Cousin Narcissa. How nice to see you again – under different circumstances than the last time when you were ruining my home and tormented my children, I mean."

"Shut up, Selena," Narcissa said coldly. If she was afraid, she was doing a great job hiding it.

"Oh I will," the dark-haired woman agreed. "You'll be the one talking, Cissy. You, your husband, and your son. Where is Noel being kept? And Arion Lupin?"

Narcissa fell silent. Margo Saint Claire came nearer. "Is she the one?" she asked.

Selena nodded. "She is the one, Margo."

Margo looked at Narcissa critically. "_Tres bien_, she really resembles Cissy to some extent. Very much, in fact. _Vraiment_, it will be easier than I thought."

She went to Narcissa and turned her head, so the other woman's face was fully exposed to the electric light. Narcissa seemed astounded that someone had dared touch her, but her astonishment was soon replaced by repulsion and anger. She looked as if she wanted to hit the other woman. She moved her head aside and then cried with pain and surprise, when Cissy's palm collided with her cheek. "Keep quiet," the young Frenchwoman said in a surprisingly level voice. "Do not give me a reason to do something worse, because Merlin knows that I don't really need one."

Narcissa shook her head, feeling her mouth feeling with blood that came pouring out of her mouth. She was in such shock that she could hardly think. It was the first time in her life that someone had ever caused her physical pain.

Fred and George started whispering among themselves. Cissy's strike had been surprisingly strong for such a slim girl, not to mention how effective and well-aimed it had been. "Hey, do you tutor in boxing?" Fred asked. "I am sure we can find a payment that would make you happy – "

Seeing the blood smearing all over Narcissa's face, Lucius made an instinct movement, as if he was trying to repel the curse that was holding him and attack Cissy himself. She smiled right in his face. "You don't want to mess up with me, Death Eater," she said. "Believe me, you really don't want to."

Raymond shook his head at her impulsiveness. "You are wasting time, Cecilia," he said and pointed his want at Narcissa to stop the bleeding. Of course, he was not doing this out of concern for the woman, but to make it easier for Margo to examine her face. Narcissa had realized that Cissy had made her threat in full seriousness, so she stayed immobile and let the Frenchwoman touch her face, although she looked like she was going to retch. Well, she always looked like this anyway.

Margo turned aside and beckoned Cissy with a single movement. The girl Conjured a chair and sat near a lamp, so MArgo could have a good look at what she was doing, when she opened the vanity-case that she had carried for this occasion and started painting Cissy's face.

"What sort of wards is now surrounding Malfoy Manor?" Kingsley asked, looking at Lucius.

There was no response. "I'll ask you once again," the Auror said. "What are the wards there?"

"You must be mad, if you think I'm going to tell you anything," Lucius spat.

"Oh but you will," Kingsley said. "We have our ways to make you talk."

Lucius smiled darkly. "If you think you can do worse to me than the Dark Lord will if I betray you, then you're even more stupid than I thought."

"Do worse to _you_?" Raymond interfered and even smiled. "No, no, you've got it all wrong, old friend."

The two men looked at each other with such hatred that could burn the whole flat. They were anything but old friends, had been ever since Hogwarts. They hated and despised each other, and they would happily do as much harm as they could to each other. Once, during the first war, Raymond had been the captive; now, it was Lucius.

"Tell me, Lucius, you know what I do for a living, don't you?" Raymond asked rhetorically. "Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. I am a Healer. I know how to fix a broken bone, how to lift a maiming curse, how to ease the pain. Do you have any idea how useful this knowledge can be for someone who wants to accomplish just the opposite – to _cause_ pain to someone?"

He slowly turned aside and his eyes moved away from Lucius. To Draco. His smile broadened.

"No!" Narcissa cried.

"Why not?" Sylvie snapped. "_My_ son has endured unbearable suffering by _your_ hands and so has Selena's. For your good, I hope they are _still_ enduring it, because if they are dead, you three will be _worse_ than dead. I shall see to that. Don't tell me that your precious boy cannot bear a taste of your own medicine."

"_Our_ medicine, Sylvie, not theirs," Raymond corrected her. "So, Lucius," he went on. "You want to know what I'm going to do? I'll tell you. I will hit him with a Stunning spell – well, if he behaves himself, I can be kind and give him a potion. Then, when he falls asleep, I will work on him. I'll start with his spinal nerves, making little corrections here and there, just so he won't be able to move his arms or legs. I will paralyze his tongue. I will take care that he'd never be able to hear anything. I will make him blind. The only thing I won't touch, Lucius, is his brain!"

He looked at the three captives: Narcissa, trembling with horror, her famous self-control completely gone, her eyes widened and frantic; Draco, who understand only too well that he the best thing he could do was keeping silent; Lucius, dark and pale, trying to understand whether Raymond was being serious, or he was just bluffing him. The Death Eater looked at the people around them, but there was no one who showed any disagreement with Raymond's intentions.

"Can you imagine what his life will be like, Lucius? He is young. With proper care, he could live to hundred and more years. Imprisoned and locked away in the eternal darkness of his own mind. Can you imagine what it would be like for him?" He smiled again.

"You wouldn't dare," Lucius said.

"Just watch me."

"You don't have it in you. You are a Healer."

"When my son is concerned, I don't give a damn about being a Healer. Of course, I will probably be arrested, once the war is over, but what good will it be to your son? No, Lucius, I am ready to do it. Unless we have our little chat?"

Silence.

"I'm counting to ten," Selena announced. "And then, I'll help Raymond do it. One – two – Three – "

"Ah no!" Cissy protested, receiving a tap on the head from Margo, which she ignored. "I want his hand cut off. Actually, I want to be the one to cut it off."

"Stop talking," Margo said firmly. "I am trying to work here and you're making it all harder. You can cut his hand off later. Keep quiet." A new tap followed the previous one and Cissy fell silent, to prevent the third one.

"All right, Cissy, I am sure we can find a solution that would make us all happy," Selena said. "Four – five – "

"And then we'll enter your Manor anyway," Cane added from in front of the mirror, where he was still trying different expressions on.

"Six – eight – "

Her face was merciless and intent – and so was Raymond's. "For Merlin's sake, Selena, he's still a child!" Narcissa cried.

"Then he shouldn't have had these robes on. If your children can kill, then they can just as well die," the other Black woman answered, visibly unmoved by this show of emotion.

"He's a brother to your children."

"You should have thought _before_ you maimed my Noel," Selena snapped, her anger visibly showing. "Nine – ten – I'll start," she added to Raymond, wondering what would happen if they really had to go on with their threat.

"There is a blood ward first," Lucius said grudgingly, after looking at Narcissa and seeing her nod. "Then, there is A Muggle repelling spell – "

Everyone listened to him very intently, Cissy and Cane most of all, because they were the ones who would risk their lives with the wards that Lucius was describing.

"Where are my friends kept?" Cane asked when Malfoy had finished.

"In the dungeon."

"I know _that_," the young Metamorphmagus interrupted impatiently. "I want to know how I can reach the dungeon and what wards are placed there."

That was not all he wanted to know. They needed to know where the meetings of the Death Eaters took place, who was behaving in what manner, what were Voldemort's next plans, as far as they were known… They wanted to know everything.

"Well, I think we're ready," Margo finally pronounced and Cissy stood up and looked around. Everyone started nodding – she looked twenty years older and she was an almost perfect copy of Narcissa Malfoy. At the night light, that would have to do.

Cissy joined Cane in front of the mirror and tried to curve her new features in a way that resembled Narcissa's.

"Not like this," Cane advised. "You must imagine that there is something awfully smelly right under your nose." He laughed. "Just imagine that you're kissing Marcel."

Cissy's face contorted in frustration at this mentioning of her former boyfriend and Cane patted her hand. "See? Now, it's better."

Cissy laughed. "All right, Cane, but don't do it again! It won't go to see Narcissa Malfoy grinning like a student."

"This lady, Cecilia, has never grinned in her life," Raymond assured her. "Even as a student. Believe me, I know."

"Is Simon Montresorre in your house?" Dominic suddenly asked, looking straight at Lucius.

"I don't know who you are talking about."

The old man sighed with exaggerated patience. "Fine, we'll do it your way." He went to Draco and slapped him hard, causing his head to jerk to one side. "Next time, I'm just letting Mademoiselle Lerois cutting his hand off," he said.

"Can't I cut his hand off anyway?" Cissy asked hopefully.

"Not now," Sylvie answered firmly. "You were saying, Malfoy, that Simon Montresorre is in your house? Or that he isn't there?"

"He is," Narcissa spat. "And he looks very interested in getting hold of certain half-breeds – some for killing, some for love." Her eyes, cold and mocking, fell on James. "I wonder whether your wife likes him as much as _he_ likes _her_. Honestly, Potter, your taste has dropped considerably for the last years. Evans might be a Mudblood, but at least she was a human."

No one could deny either her nerve, or her bravery.

Cissy turned aside from the mirror and went to her, smiling. Still smiling, she raised her hand and landed it on Narcissa's cheek. The unmistakable crunch of a broken bone sounded too loudly in the room. Narcissa gasped, horrified, blinded with pain. Lucius roared in anger and Raymond quickly reinforced the curse holding him immobile.

"We don't use these words," Cissy said. "You practically begged for what came to you, after I warned you. Oh, do stop wailing," she added, agitated, and her mother healed Narcissa with a single wave of her wand.

Having realized that this bloodthirsty girl – it was simply ridiculous how mild and fragile she looked, when her arms seemed to be made of iron – would not hesitate to resort to drastic measures, the three Malfoys did not try to defend their Lord's secrets anymore.

"What has Simon been doing since his arrival?" Alain asked. He had no doubt that his cousin was trying to do something and probably succeeding. Simon Montresorre was a wizard with brilliant magical skills and he was bothered by no conscience at all. Alain had hoped that Christine's reappearance had not yet been discovered by him. Everybody knew that Simon had always been obsessed by Christine – he loved her, and hated her, and desired her. And that he was a brilliant mind – mad, yes, but brilliant. During the first war, Christine had spent a whole year as his captive and it had been just sheer luck that she had regained her mental health – at least to some extent. Alain knew too little about panic disorders, but he was sure that Christine's problem had developed just around that time.

"He's trying to obtain some information from Arion Lupin," Draco suddenly said. "He seems to think that he can call Charles Montresorre if he wants to."

"He can – " Raymond started, but Alain interrupted him. His eyes were fixed not on Raymond, but on Charles instead.

"You didn't – Please tell me that you didn't."

Charles was silent.

"Idiotic boys!" Alain exclaimed. "Do you have any idea how _dangerous_ what you've done was? You could have bled to death! Cane!" He suddenly turned to look at the young Metamorphmagus. "You've shared that _feat_ of theirs, haven't you?"

There was no need to answer. "That's why you wanted Charles to be one of the captives," Alain said thoughtfully, his anger gone. "Yeah, you'll be probably able to hear Arion once you've passed through the wards."

"I will be one of the captives," his nephew confirmed. "And I'll kill Simon, if I have the chance," he added.

Alain only nodded. "Just don't do anything stupid," he said. "He's a wicked and smart bastard."

"If I die saving the world from his evil, it'll still be too small a price."

Alain's face was naturally fair, but now it turned pale like wax. "Not for me," he said. "But you're right. Simon ought to be stopped, no matter what. One day, I will do it. I will avenge your cousins and Henri as well as my other family. Just don't make me avenge you too."

Charles grinned. "I promise." Then he became serious again. "But I'll try, if I have the chance. He is our blood. It is our duty to deal with him, and no one else's."

"We've taught you too well, child. I almost wish that we haven't," Alain concluded. "But you're right, Montresorre should deal with Montresorre. That is our way, and it is right."

"I've often wondered if it is not simply that we think ourselves above anyone else's justice."

Alain's mouth turned down. "I fear, Charles, that for such a young man, you see things all too clearly."

Sirius' head was throbbing with the effort of following their hurried conversation in French. _The boy hit the nail_, he thought. He felt as if he heard his own family being described in short words. _Always keep appearances. Always deal with your own. Blacks are responsible first before of the other Blacks and then before the society. It's Blacks' deal to keep Blacks in check. _The only difference was that the members of Montresorre family were not blood-obsessed fanatics – well, at least most of them weren't. And Charles' last words felt like a blow to Sirius' own pride and brain. _If I had been brought up with the feeling that I was responsible before the wizarding society, would I have stopped before chasing Peter_, he wondered_. _For a moment, an image of Elise Lupin crossed his mind – Elise, who had tried to kill James and Lily without even thinking about the consequences, and for the first time he felt that he understood the way she had functioned.

"And we've decided that we'd rather have a second one, in case that there are some unpleasant encounters while rescuing the guys," Charles suddenly said, as if he and his Uncle had not changed the topic at all.

"That'll be me," Kingsley said immediately, followed by a few other voices.

"I want James."

Cane's words came out as a complete surprise. For a moment, James could not believe that Cane had chosen him and if the looks that Cissy and Charles gave him meant something, they were shocked too, but none of them argued.

"What will happen to us?" Lucius asked.

Sirius glared at him. "If they return safe and accompanied by the boys, we'll let you go. If not – " He smiled. "I suppose we'll let Selena and Raymond have you."

"But you can't!" Narcissa exclaimed. "What are we going to do, how are we going to tell him that we failed and betrayed him besides?"

Sirius shrank her with a look that Selena translated into words, "That is your problem and not ours. Do you really expect that we're going to bother with finding excuses for _you_?"

"We must work on you," Remus said, looking at James and Cane. "All of you. You are supposed to come from a battle and you must have some scars."

While they were making the scars – including even _Crucio_, though the mildest form that Raymond could master, but they needed to make it as authentic as possible, - Cane and Cissy were told how the battle had gone, where the members of the Order had met the Death Eaters and who had fought whom.

"That's it," Raymond finally announced, looking critically at his work. Now the three men and Cissy really looked like they had fought a battle. "You're ready, I think."

Cane looked at everybody in the room. "See you later," he said, smiling like Sirius had smiled at Hogwarts and after, when he thought that nothing would go wrong. For a moment, his eyes caught Remus' and he smiled again at his former guardian's look of concern.

Cissy and Charles followed him to the door, but James was startled, when he felt a hand grasping his shoulder: Alain. The Frenchman looked him in the eye. "If you have the chance, kill Simon Montresorre," he said quickly. "Kill him like a rabid dog, for he is one. Kill him before he kills your children."

James froze. "What? My children – what about them?"

"He'll kill them like he tried to do with Christine's first children," Alain said. "Kill him!"

A moment later, James was out of the flat. "What he meant by that?" he asked. "What was that talk about my children?"

Charles gave him a grim look. "It was a warning," he said. "A serious one. Simon is obsessed with the idea that his branch of the family had been cheated by my grandfather's marriage to my grandmother, since she isn't a human, you know. He thinks us all thieves. And he's madly in love with Christine. He thinks he can have everything if he marries her. But her children he hates, seeing them as reminders of her history with her first husband. And they are half-breeds at that. He killed her baby and tortured her two older children before forcing her to marry him with the _Imperius_."

James was repulsed and moved at the same time. _I prefer her version about the car accident,_ he realized. The thought of Christine being forced to marry her child's murderer was almost too hard for him to bear. _No wonder that she developed a mental disorder._

"But why should he inherit anything by marrying her? She has two brothers. You are a son of your grandfather's son. Why should she inherit anything?"

"Our family is one of these that leave the major part of their fortune to their eldest child, no matter its sex," Charles replied. "Christine is older than Michel and my father. After Uncle Alain and his children who can be eliminated, she's the next in line for inheriting – she and her children after her. Not that it means that I am safe – no one is, not even Arielle."

James blinked, while they were going out of the block of flats, into the street, where they could Apparate. "Arielle? What does _she_ have to do with anything?"

"Her grandmother belonged to our family – she's my grandfather's sister. After us, Aunt Margo and Aunt Sylvie are next in line."

James shook his head. "Is there _anything_ ordinary about you?"

"Enough talking," Cane cut off. "We can Apparate from here. Let us tie you up."

Cissy pointed her wand at Charles, Cane – at James. "Just a moment," James said.

"What now?" Cane asked impatiently.

"Why me?"

"What?"

"You wanted me to accompany you. Why did you choose me?"

He didn't expect an outspoken answer and when Cane provided one, he almost fell back with surprise. "You don't like me – you think I'm being cruel to Sirius. All the better – at least you'd go on with the plan, no matter whether I am safe or not, while Remus would risk his own safety if he feels that I am in danger, and so would Sirius."

_Merlin, I've become worse in lying._ First, he hadn't managed to hide from Christine the fact that he had been ashamed of their marriage and now Cane had noticed his dislike.

"Come on," Cane said impatiently. "My friends are suffering at the other end of our Apparition!"

Cissy was the first one to pass through the wards – the blood in her veins gave her the first access. She was Levitating Charles in front of her and Cane followed, dragging James. They were trying to walk confidently, but their whole mind was concentrated on the wards that they were supposed to know. _Merlin, what if the Malfoys lied about something, _Cane thought for a long, fearful moment, but kept walking anyway_. No, they were too scared to lie_. He sighed with relief, when they crossed the last wards. They were already within the Manor.

With a slight relief, Cane realized that the house in front of them was not so different from the one that Vivienne and Dominic lived in. He was almost certain that the disposition of the rooms in the two old, impressive buildings was similar and that meant that he would find his way with more confidence than he had previously thought. He headed straight for the house, not trying to disguise his presence, dragging his bloodied and seemingly unconscious captive in front of him. Cissy followed close.

"Where were you?" a woman snapped as soon as they stepped through the front door.

Cissy had seen enough pictures of hers to recognize her immediately. "And what are you doing here, Carrows?" she asked haughtily. "Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"I follow the Dark Lord's orders."

"As we all do. Now step aside. We've got news for him."

But the stout woman had already noticed the two tied up figures and squinted at them closely. "But surely," she said, "this is the blood traitor? This is Potter?"

They had been prepared for this. His heart beating like mad, James forces himself to stay immobile during the fascinated frenzy that burst out all around them. There were too many hands – dirty hands, bloody hands – that touched and poked him, trying to verify that he was immobile. He heard some unknown incantation being casted from somewhere near him and tensed, but it did not touch him. Finally, he and his 'wounded' co-captive were left to lie on the floor, while the Death Eaters, Cane and Cissy among them, went to report to their master. And all around became quiet.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_At the same time…_

Given the information that they had recently obtained by a tortured Frenchman – a classmate of Cane Black, Arion Lupin, and Charles Montresorre – about some bragging the boys had done more or less five years ago – and the knowledge that the newly arrived Simon Montresorre held about Veela powers, it was easy to try and make use of it. It was time to interrogate Arion Lupin again.

Following the plan, Nott had shackled Noel Lerois to a punishment post in full view of Arion Lupin, who was held by an invisible wall in the other part of the cellar.

The blond prisoner looked like he had never washed in his life – his hair was streaked with black dirt, his hair longish, his stump of a hand reeking like a slaughterhouse, roughly bandaged with a rag that had not been changed since the maiming. There was a stubble of beard on his face. He stared defiantly back, but Nott could tell that, for all his show of bravado, he was terrified. _Well, he should be._

"I ask you once again," Nott said in his smoothest tones, looking at Arion Lupin. "Is it true that your friend Charles Montresorre will come if you call him?"

"What if it is?" Arion asked defiantly, but the effect was spoiled by an awful fit of coughing. He had spend here, in the dungeons, almost two years and the effects of its captivity had finally started to come in full force. His nails had become fragile, his skin – cleaved and grey, and he was already starting to wander off – he had a fever; added to his coughs, every Muggle doctor would say that he had a pneumonia, a serious one. But the sweat glistening on his face was not due only to his illness – beneath his mask of courage, the young man was terrified and Nott knew that. Arion had every reason to be.

"Do you _want_ a _Crucio_?" the Death Eater asked. What he did not specify was that he intended to use the Unforgivable not on Arion, but on Noel instead. It was clear that stubborn as Lupin was, he would refuse to speak for a long time. But he might well break when faced of the sight of his friend being tortured.

"Do what you like," Arion snapped, "I won't help you in any way." Thankfully, he knew that no matter what he did, he could not call Charles, even if he wanted to – he must have tried it a thousand times, at least. It seemed that the wards surrounding the Manor kept blocking the binding that he and his two friends had made like a joke a few years ago, after Charles had come into his Veela abilities. They had been shocked when they discovered that it had worked and Arion and Cane were able to communicate with Charles through the strength of the blood they had mixed during the ritual. But if he told his tormentor about the existence of that bond, he could guess the other part and take Arion out of the Manor to force him to call Charles. And Charles would surely come – right in their trap. Arion did not need another dormmate in prison.

"Let me ask you one more time," Nott said. "Do you have the power to call the Veela?"

Arion said nothing.

"_Crucio_!"

Noel winced, but to his credit, not even the slightest sound escaped his lips.

"I ask you again," Nott said.

Still Arion said nothing.

"_Crucio_!"

This time, Noel turned his face away and let out a slow, agonizing moan.

"Noel!" As expected, Arion was close to breaking point. His features twisted in agony. Words, chopped by coughs, began to pour out of his mouth in French.

"No – Arion – " Noel groaned.

In a second, Nott was at Arion's side, grabbing him by the hair and jerking his head back. "Go on, boy. I'm all attention."

Arion's face began to crumple. A new stream of hissing words in French started pouring out of his mouth – he was cursing the trap that they were in.

And then a sudden voice, soft, but unmistakably familiar, resonated through his mind_. "Arion. Arion. Where are you?"_

For a moment, he wondered whether Charles' voice was just a figment of his imagination, born out of the 'conversation' that he and Nott were having right now. But some instinct in him kept the French word spilling out of his mouth, while he silently answered, _"Here, Charles… below ground."_

"_Keep talking to me, Arion. Guide me."_

It was not a figment of his imagination. Charles really was here, in the Manor. Cane probably was here as well and they were coming to their aid.

But Noel was still writhing in pain under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Another wave and all the bones in his good hand will be crushed," continued Nott in a soft voice. "He will be crippled for life – if he survives. Do you want that on your conscience?

Answer me and I will spare him." He let Arion go and stepped back. "Well? I am waiting."

Tears began to leak from Arion's eyes. Nott raised his wand again. "_Crucio_!"

This time, Noel released a deep, anguished cry.

"Charles!" screamed out Arion, feeling his friend's presence coming nearer. "_Help us!_"

"Is that all you had to do?" Nott asked. "Call his name? How can we be sure that he will come?"

"Oh, he will come," Arion said. Although the tears were almost choking him, his eyes burned with defiance and hatred. "And he will make you pay for what you did to Noel."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_At the same time…_

"They aren't in the dungeons."

"Are you sure?" James hissed, while following Charles as quickly and noiselessly as possible.

'I'm sure," Charles hissed back. "The trail isn't leading where we've been told that dungeons are. We can go there, if you want to lose your time, but I'm telling you, they aren't in the dungeons!"

James was trying to think reasonably. If Charles was really in contact with Arion Lupin, that might mean that he was right. But was there really such contact? He spared a moment to curse Christine's stubbornness and secretiveness. If she had trusted him and told him the truth about herself, he might have known much about these things.

"_Charles, hurry up!"_

Arion's voice sounded in his mind filled with panic, but beneath it, there was something else – sleepiness? _How can he be sleepy_?

"_We're coming, Arion. Where are you? In the dungeon?"_

"_No… I don't know__ – "_

"_I'm coming. Hold on! We're hurrying. We're coming."_

The trail led down a steep stair into a dark passageway. They had no choice but to lit one of their wands, if they wanted to be able to see at all. There was a stench of damp and dirt here that almost made them choke. There were drops of water trickling on the walls. How on earth could anyone keep someone, anyone, here? The awful feeling of dread and disgust stirred a righteous anger deep within the two men.

Suddenly, Charles stopped dead in his tracks. James walked right into his back. "What is it?" the older man whispered.

"I'm losing the track!" Charles hissed. For a moment, he thought that the poison injected in his body by the curse a few minutes ago, had numbed his senses. _No, I am not imagining things. Arion really fell silent. _"I think he's losing consciousness."

The two looked at each other desperately. When James raised his wand to lit the walls, he caught a slight movement in one of the passageways. Indicating to Charles to keep silence, he pointed his wand. "_Stupefy,_" he whispered and a moment later something fell heavy on the floor. James stealthily went there, to be met with watery eyes, full of horror. "Peter!" he spat. For a moment, the rage blinded his eyes. To hell with the captives, with the rescuing mission, with Cane and Cissy right in the midst of their enemies! All he wanted was to kill the whimpering traitor in front of him, to make him pay for everything… To put his hands around his fat sorry neck and clench them…

"James, not now!" Charles hissed in his ear and disentangled his fingers from Peter's neck. James had not even realized that he had placed them there. "But if you cry, Pettigrew, we will kill you," Charles added in a whisper. "Where are the boys?"

Peter did not make the mistake of pretending that he did not know who the young Frenchman was talking about. "They are in the attic," he said, and then gave a soft whimper, because Charles had kicked him.

"You're lying! They are down here somewhere! Look – Arion was calling me from this labyrinth of passageways. Why?"

"Lead us to them, Peter," James whispered threateningly, "and you may escape with your skin intact."

Peter was not the sharpest tool, but he was not a complete fool. He quickly realized that the boy in front of him could not be deceived, so he led them through the different passageways. After a few minutes, Arion's voice started resonating again through Charles mind, very faintly, although from a closer distance, _"Hurry up! Hurry up! Please, hurry up!"_

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Leave him alone!" Arion cried. "For Merlin's sake, I already told you what you wanted to know! Yes, I can – " violent coughs – "I can call Charles Montresorre, but it won't work while I'm here."

"You are trying to play smart, boy," Nott growled. "Once you're outside, you will – "

Noel was lying motionless on the dirty, wet floor.

"I am not lying, I swear it!" _Hurry up, Charles_, he called again, silently, feeling that his friend was coming nearer. Or was it just a trick of his feverish mind? "If I could call him from here, don't you think I wouldn't have done it already?"

The Death Eater turned his back to Noel and slowly headed for Arion.

"_We're here. On the other side of the door,"_ Charles suddenly spoke in his mind.

"_Oh thank Merlin!_"

"_Arion, how much of them are there? Where are they?"_

"_There is one, Charles… coming to me, right against the door."_

"_I'm coming in."_

For a moment, Charles closed his eyes and tried to summon all his instincts, speed, and precision. He already felt the gold circulating in his system, drenching him in sweat; he had to act, before the poison had started to paralyze his muscles and organs.

He opened his eyes and took out the dagger that he was hiding under his clothes. "I'll go alone," he whispered. "Just open the door."

James nodded and holding Peter with one hand, pointed his wand at the door and waited until Charles took position right in front of it.

"_Alohomora_," he whispered and the door opened with a slight sound. Nott turned around to see the newcomer and then, without the lightest hesitation, Charles lunged for him and buried his dagger deep into the man's chest.

"We'll have to move fast," he said, laying the body on the floor.

"Cane?" Arion was squinting, trying to penetrate the semi-darkness behind Charles.

"He's upstairs, posing as the young Malfoy," Charles answered, kneeling by Noel and Arion in turn and releasing them from the ropes. "Each moment we're staying here, the risk for him is growing. We'll have to move fast."

"Wait!" Noel whispered. "In the next cell. There is a girl – a Veela that they tortured by only Merlin knows what reason. We cannot leave her behind."

Charles gave an impatient moan, but nodded at James, who hurriedly casted a Stunning Spell on Pettigrew and unlocked the door. "I'm a friend," he said quickly to the emaciated frame huddled in a corner. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

The girl – was she a girl, a grown woman, or an old wife? It was impossible to tell under the film of filth covering her face and the deep lines of suffering dug in it – was unable to move, so James grabbed her and carried her outside just when Charles was emerging from the other cell, Levitating Noel in front of him and supporting Arion's weight with his free arm. He looked around. "Where is Pettigrew?"

Startled, James started looking around. "I swear, I Stunned him and left him here – " But even while he was saying this, he knew what had happened: he had cursed Peter all right, but he had been in such a hurry and – damn it! – so sure in his superiority over the talantless Peter that he had not looked to make sure that the spell had hit him.

"He is sure to raise the alarm," Charles said frantically. "We have to get out as soon as possible – they will come looking for us and they will suspect Cissy and Cane!"

But it was already obvious that neither Noel nor the girl had the strength to walk. Arion, in his delirium, was not much better, although he seemed to understand what was going on and trying to move as fast as he could.

"It won't do," James said. "Noel, can you hold the girl?"

"I can damn well try," Noel said through gritted teeth and Charles moved him next to the girl. Noel put his arm around her and James started Levitating them both.

"_Cane,"_ Charles cried silently, Levitating Arion in front of him.

"_Are you in trouble?"_

"_They spotted us. In a few minutes, the alarm would be raised. Get out of there."_

"_Arion? Noel?"_

"_They are with us. For Merlin's sake, Cane, move!"_

A moment of silence._ "I understand, Charles," _Cane's calm voice came._ "We're coming."_

Somehow, they reached the stairwell and even made their way up just before a storm of shouts and cries erupted from above them.

"We've been discovered!" Charles hissed. Their hearts were pounding, the blood was rushing in their ears and, in Charles' case, his limbs were slowly stiffening, his lungs could no longer pomp the amount of blood that his body needed.

Charles propped Arion against the wall and listened for the sound of running feet. "It's only one," he whispered silently and when the dark figure rushed past them, he quickly stabbed it with the dagger. "Hurry up!" he hissed and they started making their way outside.

How they managed to cross the yard, no one knew. When they talked about it later, they reached to the conclusion that Peter had needed a few minutes to find the other Death Eaters and that they had rushed to the cellar first, to check what was going on, while the prisoners and their rescuers had already been outside. Three of them started chasing them only after they had left the boundaries of the Manor. James and Charles left the captives on the ground and started fire back.

"Apparate them to Cissy's flat," James said. "Immediately!"

"And what about Cane and Cissy?" Charles protested.

Noel's eyes widened in alarm. "Cissy is in there?" he groaned.

No one answered him. "We must find them!" he cried.

"Yes! No matter what!" Arion seconded and even tried to stand up, but failed miserably. Again, he started to cough.

James groaned with frustration. "They need a Healer," he told Charles. "And they need him now! Take them to Raymond and then you can come back."

Without looking back, he hurried back towards the savage cries and lights of flying spells that were filling the Manor. It was a madness to go there and he knew that. _Cane, Cissy, where are you, _he thought desperately_. Please, show up_. He started running. He could never face Sirius and Remus if he left without Cane. With his peripheral vision, he spotted a silver head next to him. _Well, I haven't really expected him to leave._

"_Cane_," Charles cried again. "_Cane, where are you?"_

"_We're coming, Charles_." Cane's voice gasped. "_We are –_ "

And they appeared, fighting their way out of the front door, Cane changed back into himself, Cissy with running makeup, smeared with blood. There was a nasty slash on her face and another one that had left Cane's wand arm heavily bleeding.

"I'm taking the left one," Charles yelled at James. James aimed and a moment later, two of the Death Eaters who were chasing Cissy and Cane fell unconscious. For a moment, Charles caught Cane's eyes and then made a hard effort, concentrating all his energy. Veela powers always came harder to those with mixed blood. His uncle Alain would have needed only a slight concentration and his grandmother Vivienne could make it half-asleep, but the tension made Charles Montresorre's eyes fill with tears, before he felt the ropes of fire shooting out of his fingers. Cane pushed Cissy aside to avoid them, and they burst out right in the middle of the crowd of Death Eaters who were chasing them. Two people immediately caught fire and the panic increased, so Cane and Cissy were able to reach the wards of the Manor, fighting only two rivals; James and Charles took care of three others.

"This isn't the end of it!" a male voice shouted in French accent. "Don't think you'll have it so easy, you dirty half-breed!"

"Simon!" Charles and Cane cried simultaneously. Cissy bent over Noel and started pulling him up, so she could Apparate him alongside. Leaning over Arion, Cane heard an incantation that he had only heard of being shouted at the top of someone's lungs and a moment later noticed the bright spot approaching them. Approaching the girl. The Veela. Suddenly, he heard a frightened voice – Elise's voice – explaining to him what the effect of this incantation would be. He saw the girl's eyes widen with horror, for she knew, as he did, that when the curse hit her, the touch of it to his skin would turn in gold – a blaze of gold that would bloom inside her and destroy her organs only in a few minutes' time. Without thinking, Cane pushed the Veela behind him, protecting her body with his own, and felt a flame burning on the left side of his face. He clenched his teeth and made an effort to morph, so he could keep his looks unchanged. No one should see that he had been hit.

"Come on!" he urged, his voice trembling with the hidden pain. "Hurry up!"

He pulled Arion up and Apparated them both away the moment the first Death Eater reached the wards.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Half an hour later…_

"What are you planning to do with them?" Noel asked. He was leaning against Cissy, because he was unable to stand on his own. He was still incredibly dirty – filthy, actually, - and he was trembling with weakness. They had given him food, but after his imprisonment, there was only a certain amount that he could take. He would need months to become the former Noel again – the larger part of him anyway. The stump of his arm was now cleaned and neatly bandaged. It would never turn into a human hand again. He was still doubling over by the effects of the Cruciatus, but his deep eyes were clear and grey with contempt and hatred, as he stared at the three Malfoys.

"Sirius wants to set them free," Cissy answered.

"_No way_! Set them free?" Noel asked angrily. "Just forget about it! Do you have any idea how these people treated me while I was their prisoner? Arion is still hanging between life and death!"

Involuntarily, everyone's eyes turned to the bedroom. Unlike the crowded living room, there were only three people there – Sylvie, Arion, and Raymond, who was trying to keep his son alive. In the kitchen, Alain and Margo were making all they could to purge Charles' system from the gold that had spread in it and would kill him slowly and painfully, if it was too late to eliminate it.

"I know, I know, but – we promised," his mother reminded him, although she was tempted to let him have his way. The sight of his cut hand made her want to weep – and kill Lucius, Narcissa and their wretched brat.

"_I_ haven't promised anything." Now, it was Noel's turn to refresh Selena's memory. "And if you think that I'll just let them leave, you don't know me at all!"

"You have no idea how we found them, Selena," James said. "No idea. I support Noel."

Noel smiled at him with gratitude. "Thanks, Mr Potter."

"James, kid. My name is James and after this night, I think you've earned the right to use it."

Noel grinned. "All right, James."

He turned to the Malfoys again and his face hardened. "What should I do?" he wondered aloud, and stared at Draco. "You seem well to me. Too well. Whole. Maybe I should have your hand cut off, what do you think? My sister will do it for me."

Of course. They should have expected it. Draco Malfoy had been the one who suggested Noel's maiming; the least that Draco could expect of him was to reply in the same kind now, when their roles were reversed.

"No," he said hurriedly. "You don't understand."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Don't I?" he asked. "Have you forgotten whose idea my maiming was?"

"I haven't," Malfoy answered. "But you must hear me out. The idea was mine and it probably saved your life. Every action that I would propose against you should have looked unusually cruel, otherwise the Dark Lord and my Aunt Bellatrix would have really done something terrible to you. This way, they were not interested in you anymore and you were left to recover."

"I see," Noel said in a voice that clearly indicated that he didn't believe a word of it. "And you suggested my hand being cut off just by way of a joke."

"No, but I knew you'd learn to use the other one."

Noel stared at him. Malfoy did not lower his eyes. "What did you say?"

New silence. Noel was thinking hard. No matter how much he wanted to deny all that, he knew that the Malfoy boy was telling the truth. Besides, the Dark Lord would probably punish them for their failure far more severely than Noel could ever think of. "All right," he said eventually. "I won't do anything to you… for now." He shot him a look of disdain and fury. "But that's only me. You'd better pray that Arion Lupin pull through, or I am not responsible for what his father might do."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few minutes later…_

_What is Raymond planning to do_, James wondered. _Scare the hell out of Arielle_? Everyone knew that the girl's pregnancy was a problematic one and by now, it had become clear that today she was not feeling good. Arion was still feverish. His pneumonia had progressed so far that his survival was by no means a sure thing. What was Raymond trying to do, infect Arielle too?

At the sound of the clicking door, the two women on the bed turned their heads. Arielle slowly moved beneath the blankets and smiled weakly. Fleur quickly stood up and went to them. "Arion!" she exclaimed.

Despite his clouded eyes, he seemed to recognize her and held a hand towards her. She hugged him, paying no attention to his coughs.

Meanwhile Raymond had gone to his daughter's side. He asked her a few questions and felt her forehead. She smiled and nodded, and he touched her hand in gratitude.

Raymond went back to Arion's side. "Come on," he told him. "Come on, Arion. James, help me."

"What are you going to do?" James asked sharply.

"I'll place him next to Arielle."

"Raymond, Arion has a pneumonia – " James started and then the protest died on his lips. He looked at Cane.

"Do it," the young man said. Sylvie nodded affirmatively.

James helped Raymond lead Arion to the bed and tuck him in. Arielle's hand immediately found her brother's and squeezed it. She smiled faintly at the two men. "We'll be all right," she said, and her eyes found Cane's. "I promise."

"I'll be back in a minute," Cane said, and Sirius saw his chance to ask him a few questions.

"I've heard some rumors about the bond that exist between twins," he said, when they were outside. "Is there any such thing between these two?"

Cane looked very, very tired. "Yes," he said. "There is."

That was the last thing he said; the next moment Sirius found himself straining all his muscles to keep him upright, but Cane lost conscience anyway and when he did, Sirius, horrified, saw how his face changed: its left side turned red, rough and blistered, his skin missing, the flesh beneath it visible, the eye practically invisible. He swore and panicked, called for Raymond.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_A few hours later…_

Cane had no idea what was going on. The only thing he knew was the pain – red pain, burning pain, ever-penetrating pain. He wanted to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. What had happened? Where was he? He had no idea. He called out a name and desperately tried to remember what had happened. But nothing came back to him. Nothing.

As in a dream, he heard the voice of the man his name he had spoken. "I'm here, Cane. I haven't left your side."

Cane relaxed, temporarily calmed down. Nothing bad could happen, while Remus was here. Remus would take care of everything. He always did. Cane could sleep now…

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two days later…_

He still couldn't open his eyes, but his mind was clear now. He had fought in a battle. He had found Arion. And wherever he was, he was clearly among friends.

His right hand was warm. Someone was holding it.

"Arielle?" Cane asked.

"No, Cane."

Cane blinked. It was impossible… and then he remembered. "Arion. Is it really you?"

"I've been here for two hours, Cane."

"So you made it."

"I did." Arion's voice was very weary, but there was warmth in it. "I am glad you came," he said simply.

Cane frowned and felt that his whole head was bandaged, even his eyes. Only his mouth and nose were free, so he could breath. "For how long have I been here?"

"Two days."

"Two days?" Cane exclaimed and tried to stand up, but Arion pressed him back.

"Easy, Cane."

"Arielle?" Cane asked. Two days – that meant that he had slept during the full moon!

"She's all right," Arion answered immediately. "She's tired, but she's all right. Sirius and James kept her company."

Arion was a good liar, but Cane felt that this time, he was telling the truth. He relaxed. "What happened to me?" he asked.

"You pushed the Veela girl aside and took the gold shot meant for her. You were burned." Arion's voice trembled. "Badly."

Cane fell silent, trying to remember. "What happened to my eyes?" he asked. "Will they recover?"

"Of course."

"You don't make a good liar, Arion."

After a short pause, his friend said, "Your right eye will be all right."

It was Cane's turn to fall silent. "I have lost the other one, haven't I?" he finally asked. "It was burned away by the curse."

"I'm so sorry," Arion whispered. "At least, you'll be able to see and that's the most important thing – "

For a while, Cane just lay there, trying to proceed this impossible information. What on earth was he going to do with only one eye? How was he going to live? Would he still be able to have his dream job? They had kept old Moody after he became blind in one eye, but Moody had been an Auror for a very long time. A hero. There was no one who could make exception for Cane Black.

He squeezed Arion's fingers. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"How many people know about this?"

"Almost no one. My father. Arielle. And I suspect that my mother has worked it out. But no one else."

"Good. Now listen: I don't want you to tell anyone. Neither of you. No one should know."

Arion gasped. "Cane, you wouldn't – "

"I would. And I will. We aren't telling anyone that I've lost the eye. Do you hear me? Anyone!"

"Cane, do think twice of it. You can't keep the illusion all your life."

"And you think I'd rather walk around like something that has emerged straight from a book of monsters? It can't be just my eye – the left side of my face must have been burnt, too. I remember the strength of the curse."

Arion was silent.

"You see? No, mate, we are not telling anyone."

"Cane – "

'Your father is my Healer, right, Arion? Or maybe it isn't so?" Cane's voice was cold and imperious – a voice that he almost never used with his friends.

"You know very well that he is."

"Right. That he is. And I am not giving him permission to discuss my state of health with anyone."

Arion sighed. "Anything you say, Cane. Calm down. Do you want me to bring you something?"

"Water, please."

Arion Summoned a glass, Cane drank it and fell asleep almost immediately, leaving his friend deep in thought. Cane had chosen a hard path, but it was his choice and Arion could not interfere. From now on, Cane would have to sustain a different face for his real one and while he would probably be able to morph a new eye for himself instead of the empty eye-socket with only half a lid, there was no way that he would be able to see with it.

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29


	39. Defects and Effects

_Disclaimer: Jo owns everything. Surprised?_

**I am sorry for delaying this chapter for so long. I couldn't do anything, really I couldn't. I had an accident. I've been in plaster for a while. I hope I'll be able to get rid of it soon… 21 days to go. I can't wait!**

**Thanks for every review this story got. It's always good to see your work being appreciated.**

Chapter 39

_A few hours later…_

Noel Lerois entered the kitchen and immediately shielded his eyes. Tried to. By sheer force of habit, with his stump of a right hand.

Molly Weasley immediately started fussing over him. "Are you okay? Do you want something to eat?"

Noel blinked at her. He was pretty sure he had never seen this small red-haired woman in his life. "No, thanks. I'm okay."

Cissy and Arion moved closer to each other to make room for him. He sat down.

"How is Charles? How is Cane?" he asked. His parents had deemed it better not to tell him anything but now, they were back in France and he had risen from his sickbed as soon as he had seen their backs – against his mother's judgment, as well as Raymond's.

"They are both stable," Remus said.

Noel nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

He looked around, his face confused. "I thought I heard a child somewhere upstairs," he said. "Are there any children here?"

A few people denied the idea before falling silent, embarrassed. Sirius suddenly realized that there were children here – two very small children, a girl and a boy five and four, respectively, James had told him. He had not paid too much attention on that information because these kids had somehow made themselves unseen and unheard. Now, he realized that it must have been Christine's doing, rather than theirs – she was careful not to show them too much, not to irritate her family by reminding them that she had two children with James. _He was ashamed of her and how she is ashamed of him_, Sirius thought_. A match made in hell, surely._ Even in their worst days, he and Angela had never been ashamed of each other. The idea of someone feeling this way about James was almost ridiculous – he was a hero, after all. But not to his own wife.

"There are," James said shortly.

But Noel was not interested in asking further questions. Instead, he looked around and asked, "Anything happened? A new tragedy making the Muggle newspapers?"

"It's all quiet for now," Remus said.

"Good," Noel said and looked across the table, straight at Dominic Montresorre. "You know what happened to me," he said.

The old man nodded. "I'd say it's obvious."

"It is." Noel contrived a smile. "I tried to make some spells with my left hand before I came here. I failed spectacularly."

Silence, shared looks around the table. Noel ignored them. "Can you teach me?" he asked. 'Can you teach me to fight with my left hand?"

For a while, Dominic kept silent. Then, he looked the boy in the eye. "Do you know what you want from me?"

"I do."

"You could still do some spells with your other hand. It will be…"

"It will be a sloppy work," Noel cut him off. "I won't stand for it. I want to become as good with my left hand as I was with the right one."

James who was experiencing some problems with his wand arm could see it was a great ambition. Still, he did not say so. The boy had the right to choose his own way.

For a while, Dominic didn't say anything. "Why me?" he asked. "I am sure there are others who would…"

Noel shook his head. "I want you," he said. "You made more than one champion. You made Julian Black equal to most seeing wizards. If someone can help me, it'll be you."

Despite his insistence, he knew it was not the same thing. Elise and Remus had started Julian's practice with Dominic as soon as the boy had made his first steps – long before his magic showed. They had used an ordinary stick, for time was of utmost importance to compensate for birth defects. Noel had fought his entire life with his right hand. It was not the same.

"I do not work with grown-ups, let alone people who do not intend to become duelists," Dominic said. "No coach does."

"No coach works for long with Muggleborns, not places too much trust in them either," Noel reminded him. "Yet I heard you took Reynald Dubois when he was already eleven. And he became a very great champion."

"That's right."

Dominic slowly nodded, not to Noel but to some thought of his. "I am a perfectionist," he said. "It is not a nice trait in one but I am. And I do not compromise. If I take you in, I'll treat you as one of my students. I am not an easy one to work with. With me, there are many difficulties and too few rewards. You'll need strong and blind faith. Are you ready to plunge ahead?"

Noel felt his throat clenching. "I am."

"First, I want you to talk to my sons. And my grandson." Dominic looked at Alain but continued to address Noel. "I cannot find words strong enough to describe the hell my children went through. They will tell you how harsh and cruel I was, that I was a stone and not a man. And they will be right. The only thing that kept them going was their faith in me while they were crawling on their fours and their bellies. That's the way to perfection. Maybe someone knows another way to make you as good with your left hand as you was with the one you lose. But I do not know. If you're still willing…"

If Dominic was trying to scare him off, he was doing a fine job. Alain's dark face showed that he was far away in his past, with his winnings, trainings and losses on his way to the top– and crawling on his belly. Noel could only hope that Dominic had not meant it literally. "I am."

"Then, I shall teach you," Dominic said. "A lot of my requirements will look too great to you. But I won't demand anything impossible. And I won't expect of you to be grateful. In fact, I am fully prepared for your hatred."

That sounded funny, yet Dominic looked serious. Noel bit his lip and nodded again. He was already regretting his decision to ask him – but he was not regretting it enough to give up.

* * *

_Early the next day…_

Cane's entering in the kitchen was met by sudden silence. Everyone knew how unwell he had been and they all looked at him, searching for some inkling in his expression that could give away any continuing indisposition. He was awfully pale and weary, his face even thinner than before, but then he grinned and asked, "Is there any food left for a starving man?" and he was just like the Cane everybody knew or loved – or wanted to strangle.

"Sit down," Sylvie said and started piling ham, eggs, and tomatoes on a plate. Cane looked at her and laughed.

"You are planning to fatten me so much that I won't be able to make my broom lift off the ground," he joked.

"Yeah, that's my purpose." Sylvie grinned back, trying to sound as casually as she could. She knew that Cane was not well at all, but he was trying so hard to look as if he was; he would never forgive her if she let the cat out of the bag. She forbade herself to cry, no matter how great her love and pity for this boy who had grown up along with her own kids were.

Sirius, on the other side, was not even bothering to try and hide his suspicions about Cane's sudden recovery. It was true that he did not know that the effects would be permanent, but he had been with Cane when he had lost control over his morphing after passing out; Sirius knew that there was no way for his son to recruit his health so fast. He was faking it somehow. _Damn your pride, Cane, you could have let us know what's going on_, Sirius thought angrily. Of course, he knew that under similar circumstances, _he_ would have never let the others know just how bad he felt, but that thought only made him feel more keenly that there was something wrong. He took Cane's face between his palms and turned it to inspect it closely.

Cane had to fight the urge to morph once more, to try and look more like his undamaged self. Surely something had gone wrong? Sirius seemed to know that he was pretending. But no, no one else gave him strange looks. Whatever Sirius suspected, it was based just on his intuition, not on Cane's looks. So he resisted the urge to morph further. Finally, Sirius released him and Cane almost sighed with relief. Only then did he realize that he had not pushed Sirius' hands aside, as he would have done only a year ago.

He looked around and his smile faded, when he didn't see his friend Charles or Alain, or Dominic anywhere. Only Christine was there, but she had come in only a few moments before Cane – they had almost bumped into one another at the door. "Where is Charles?" he asked, and then, with a concerned air, "Hasn't he made a full recovery yet?"

The shocked silence that met his question immediately made him realize that he had said the wrong thing. He suddenly knew that he should have asked Arielle or Raymond about Charles before going to the kitchen – that was what a man as healthy as he pretended to be would have done. Unfortunately, Cane had spent the last few hours in exhausted slumber and after having woken only an hour ago, his attention was fully occupied by his own difficulties, trying to shake aside the veil of haze that had enveloped his brain, trying to give himself looks as close to his former ones. The simple truth of the matter was that he had all but forgotten all about Charles' injury until now, when his friend's absence hit him like a physical blow. Surely Charles couldn't have passed away?

"This far, he hasn't," Margo said. "The gold has penetrated the skin of his skull and we have yet to know whether it will reach the brain."

Cane, who wasn't hungry anyway and had wanted the food just to make his pretension of good health more believable, suddenly found it unable to swallow. He did not need Margo explaining to him that, once penetrated through the skin of a Veela, gold had effect not unlike that of an acid – a strongly corrosive acid. The hits in the head were the most dangerous ones – the gold would eat its way through the skull and if they couldn't stop it, it would reach the brain and that would be the end. The victim would die in terrible agony.

"He – it won't – "

"I don't know," Margo answered miserably. "I really don't."

Cane closed his eyes and held them like this until he was sure he had himself under control. _When is this going to end?_ He looked at Margo. "Brain damage," he said. "Isn't it how his father – ?"

"Yes," Christine interrupted harshly, obviously willing to leave the matter to rest. "That's how we lost his father, my brother."

Her blue eyes were fixed on James, showing hatred – and unhealed pain. Thankfully, she did not say anything to him. Instead, her eyes softened, darkened, veiled. She was far, far away, back to what had happened years ago. Of course, she did not know Charles at all, so she couldn't have much of a relation to him and that was why she could look at his situation more calmly than her relatives. On the other hand, it was obvious that she still felt the pain for her brother, who had died so long ago.

"You were there?" Arielle whispered, wondering whether they will have to be there for a tragedy so similar to that one.

"I saw him dying," Christine said seriously. "For days, I prayed for his recovery, but it did not come. The gold ate into his brain despite all efforts to stop it. I heard his last screams. It was terrible. Really, it was. I don't like remembering about it, even now." She turned her face aside. "It was terrible," she said again. "It's horrible to die such a death."

Each word hit James like a stone, making him realize what pain he had caused her without meaning to. Making him realize that convincing her to come back to him would be even harder than he had thought. And yet, he had to. He had lost Lily. In fact, he had lost her fifteen years ago. He still hadn't lost Christine – not entirely. And he had no intention of letting this happen. He would find a way.

"Eat," Raymond's voice interrupted him. Remus' brother was looking at Cane with reproach and… something else… Unmistakable hostility. _Hostility? What's going on here?_ James looked at Remus, who shrugged, as if to show that he had no idea what was going on either.

"Eat," Raymond ordered again, roughly. "You won't help him, if you fall ill again, with malnutrition this time."

_Damn__ Uncle Raymond who knows! Damn Sirius, who suspects!_ Under the hard stares of the two men, Cane dutifully started eating and even smiled at Arielle, trying to show her that there was nothing to worry about. She smiled back.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two hours later…_

"And what do you think you are about, my boy?"

Cane inwardly cringed at the sound of familiar voice. He had hoped to escape Raymond's angry presence for this evening at least. He knew him longer than yesterday and he had seen his rage gaining momentum during the evening, when he had been forced to pretend that Cane was okay. Since Cane had gone to Charles before coming to his own bedroom, he had held the illusion that he was safe for now.

"Going to my bed," he said.

Raymond's features softened. "You certainly look like you need it," he said and followed the young man inside. Then, he merely pointed at the bed. "Let's see what damages you've inflicted to yourself, trying to fake your best form."

Cane obediently sat on the bed – he could feel that he truly needed the examination. His head was spinning, every muscle in his body seemed to have its own opinion about what it should be doing, and his face was burning.

"Change," Raymond said, and kept his own face deliberately expressionless while he was examining the awful red-and-brown mess that Cane's face had turned into.

"Is it bad?" Cane asked.

"It could have been worse," Raymond asked stoutly. "You could have _died_. Or go totally blind."

_Like Julian_, they both thought, and then Raymond started applying a salve that the dry, hot skin absorbed immediately – too quickly. Raymond pursed his lips and spread more of it.

"You'll run out of supplies," Cane joked faintly, letting his weariness show for a first time.

"Then I'll find myself a new stock," Raymond answered lightly. "And now you are going to sleep."

"Yes, sir." Cane felt as if he could sleep for weeks. "Uncle, I'm sorry."

"For what? For being pigheaded? Well, you should be." In contrast with his harsh words, Raymond's hands were working with surprising delicacy. "Tiring yourself sick and tormenting yourself with these pretences. Who needs that? Why can't you just let them know how you truly are? Let alone your eating habits. Look at you, Cane, nothing but a bag of bones. You should eat every bite of your meals."

"I will start… soon."

Raymond huffed. "Still harping on the same string, ah, Cane? Drink this, before you've got a headache."

"I already have one," Cane admitted.

Raymond Summoned a cup of tea from the table and reheated it with his wand. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"I had to do it, though. I don't want anyone worrying about me or pitying me!"

With that, Raymond could sympathize.

"Well, everything comes to its place," Cane concluded, trying to be cheerful. "If only Charles – "

"Yes." His Uncle's voice was as dull as his own. Cane hissed, when the older man's hand involuntarily touched his wounded eye. "I'm sorry," Raymond said quickly. "Just when are you planning on telling the others about the real size of the damage?"

Cane did not answer. Deep down, he had hoped that Arion would have told his father everything, but his best mate had left the hardest part to him. "Never." He grimaced at the violent glare. "I feel like such a fool."

"I'm glad to hear it, for you are. Lie down, so I can work on your neck better." Raymond sighed. "But I cannot say I don't understand you. I think Remus will understand it, too."

"Uncle Raymond, don't – "

"Don't tell him?" Raymond asked, with a furious glare at the young man. "Is that what you were going to say, Cane? Don't tell the man who loved and cared for you, who gave you a home and a family?"

_No one spreads ointment on a wound on shame on a face like Uncle Raymond_, Cane thought miserably. "No. I'll tell him myself. Tomorrow."

"That's better." Looking at the horrible blind eye and ruined face of one of the most handsome men he had seen in his life, Raymond felt not only anger for Cane's stupidity, but a great deal of sympathy. Yet, he should hold to his brisk manners and cutting voice, for sympathy was the last thing Cane needed right now. He handed him the cup of tea. "Drink it and then go to sleep. If you want to be able to crawl out of bed tomorrow morning and go on wit your charade, do as I say."

Cane was too tired to do anything else. He fell asleep even before Raymond left the room, barely feeling Arielle's entering and crawling in bed next to him a few minutes later. Then, he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her in the dark. "Are you tired?" he asked. He had become accustomed to her pallor and the bags beneath her eyes, but the fact that they were progressing was not lost on him. He could only guess how bad the last full moon had been, although Arielle denied it.

"I'm a wreck," she answered in all honesty. "And I'm cold," she added, snuggling closer to him. He tried to give her as much of his own warmth as he could. He would use a Heating charm on the covers, if he needed to.

"I still can't fully believe that Arion returned, at last," she said after a while.

Cane smiled in the dark, the thought of his friend who had been reunited with them sending a nice sensation through his chest. "Believe it," he said.

"I knew he was alive all over," she went on, "but there were moments when I thought – " Her voice faded. Despite her happiness, she was tense and angry and while the sensation was familiar, its intensity would not abate with time. She herself had been in actions, no less deadly or dangerous than her brother's release, but it was awful to do nothing but wait, knowing that when the Death Eaters took aim, they were threatening not her, but Cane – the one who mattered most to her. Nor could she contemplate the injuries to Charles or Noel, or Cissy, or even James Potter with any sort of detachment; they might not be Cane, but they were her friends and full comrades-in-arms. "If only Charles will be all right," she whispered.

"Let us hope so," Cane answered. Now, he was fully awake. Suddenly, he felt that he had to do something he had delayed until now. He moved his arm, pulling it out of the cover.

"What are you doing?" Arielle asked.

"I want to _Accio_ the mirror," he said, and felt her body tense against his.

"Now?" Arielle asked nervously.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

Cane felt his lips curve in a smile of sad wonder. "Is it this bad?"

She didn't answer.

Cane propped against the pillow and reached for his wand. "_Lumos_!"

Arielle sighed, looking resignedly as he Summoned the mirror through the brightly lit room.

For a moment, he fell silent, as he was inspecting his new looks. He felt his teeth clenching and his lips turning down, as the ruined landscape of his face appeared: the eye with its lid greatly burned away, the bubbled skin across his cheek, red and brown, and coarse. Even his lips were reduced to thin red lines, as though someone had made his mouth with the haphazard slash of a dull knife.

He had thought that it wouldn't matter – he could morph a new face for himself every time he wanted. He had thought that the only real loss would be that of the eye. He had been right – it was a great change to be able to see with only one eye, as he had already realized this evening. And yet, he hadn't been totally right. It was different to look at the creature floating in the glass, looking like something out of a nightmare and know that it was _him_. Cane Black had always been an attractive man – his good looks, his charm, his charisma had been given to him by God and now he would have to _work_ to sustain them. They would never come back by their own. He would never be a man worthy of desire and admiration, as he had been mere days ago – at least not as himself.

He felt Arielle's hand on his own, taking the mirror from his fingers. "It could have been worse," she whispered. "You could have been dead."

„Yeah, I suppose you're right." Cane sighed. "It's silly of me, really. It could have been _far_ worse – I might have not been a Metamorphmagus, _and_ my whole face might still have been burnt away."

"And I wouldn't have fancied you then?" Arielle's voice was teasing.

"No." Cane felt himself smiling, as he looked at her. "I am sure you would have fancied me still."

"Right you are. Let's go to sleep. I need my rest and you certainly wouldn't be able to keep up the pretence without yours."

And she whispered the darkening spell and snuggled against him in the dark room.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next day…_

Julian Black had walked into a wall. Again. A wall that had not been there the previous day. Again.

He was not surprised to hear the sniggers from his right. "You think you are so smart, don't you?" he asked in a level voice, after standing up.

"Why yes. Don't you?"

_Gautier and Morisso_. Just like he had expected. "Can't you find something more interesting to do? Like drowning some newborn kittens or something?" There was contempt in Julian's voice. "Come on, you'd think you'll get tired of repeating yourselves like this."

He could hear the smile in Morisso's voice, when he answered, "We find you the most interesting… amazement here, cripple."

Julian clenched his teeth. Ever since these two had become more confident in their magical talents, they had started finding new ways to satisfy their bullying nature. They were right about this – who would provide better entertainment for them than the only blind student in the whole school? They didn't miss a chance to pick on him, especially when he was alone. When Andre or Anath were with him, the two gorillas were easily repelled. When he was alone, though, numerical superiority, combined with his defect, was not so favourable for him.

"Well, I can't say I really expected of you to come with a better idea," he said casually, his head still throbbing from the hard fall. "Now, I've got Transfiguration – "

"All you have is a trip to the infirmary," Gautier informed him. "We'll take care of that. We can even lead you there, just so you don't get lose, you know, since you can't see the road and so on."

"Go to hell," Julian spat. These two were the same morons that they had been five years ago, in their first year, and he couldn't stand the sight – well, the sound – of them. With the chaos that was reigning all over Europe, they had become bolder. His hands scratched to give them a good hex – he was almost sure that he could get them in no time. They had been trying to make his life as miserable as possible even since they first met, but he did not intend to surrender without a fight, numerical superiority be damned.

"Well, we'll leave your guardian pave the road for us, for hell is certainly where _creatures_ like him belong."

Julian froze. What was Gautier implying? He couldn't possibly be referring to –

"Ah, I see you haven't read the magazines lately – if you have _ever_ read them, which, of course, you haven't. They are full of stories about your family – the half-breed you call father, your bragging brother, Proud Lis the bitch, the slut, the treacherous whore. I suppose your sweet little sister will be the next one. Sorry business, that was, the loss of a good stuff – for she was really lovely. I suppose she'll have to cover her face, if she hopes to catch any man at all."

That was too much. Suddenly, all thoughts of just fighting back and all cautiousness left him. He knew the laws, of course, and he knew that there will be consequences, but he could not help himself. His hand flew to his wand, his mouth opened, and he screamed out a word….

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Eight hours later…_

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked, amazed, when Julian entered the kitchen of Grimmauld Place 12, holding Sylvie's hand.

"They kicked me out of Beauxbatons," the boy answered without hesitation.

"What? Why?"

"For using an Unforgivable Curse on two other students," Julian replied defiantly.

There was a collective, terrified intake of breath filling the kitchen.

"No one is dead," Sylvie assured them hastily. "No permanent harm done. But he had to leave. Since Remus couldn't be found, they contacted me and here we are."

For a moment, there was an appalled, disbelieving silence. "Merlin, Julian, what happened?" Cane finally asked.

"They riled me up and I got even with them, that's all."

Cane looked shocked. That was not like Julian at all. Never in his life had his brother behaved like this – not only the use of the Unforgivable, but the complete lack of remorse.

"Julian, what's – "

"Oh, do shut up!" Julian snapped. "You wouldn't understand and in all honesty, I'm not in the mood for dealing with you, Mr Perfect!'

Cane was dumb with surprise and so was everybody else. Julian turned his back on them and made a move to leave –

- and tripped on the stool that Arielle had previously stretched her legs on. He fell hard on the stone floor, but when Fleur – she and Bill had stayed for dinner after the meeting – tried to help him stand up, he pushed her hand aside and slowly rose on his own.

"God, Julian!" Remus exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

"Oh yes," the boy assured him. "You should have become used to my clumsiness by now. After all, that's what might be expected of a useless cripple, what you might call a walking talking birth defect. _I_ certainly have."

He left, slowly, finding his way with his stick, leaving a struck silence behind. _Walking talking birth defect?_ Where was all this coming from? Was it anger putting words in his mouth, or did he really believe -?

"What's going on here?" Arielle asked helplessly.

No one could give her an answer.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**Again, ****I am sorry for being so incredibly late with this chapter. **


	40. A Saving Storm

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

_Thanks to everyone who left a review, that keeps my interest in writing this story._

Chapter 40

_Later that __night…_

Cane raised his hand and knocked hesitantly at the door. "Go away," his brother's voice came.

The young Metamorphmagus did not go away. Instead, he pushed the door open and entered the room. Julian was sitting near the window, his head turned toward it, as if he was staring at the moonlight that he could not see. "I believe I told you to go away," he said.

"And I disregarded your advice."

Julian said nothing more. Cane sat on the bed – his brother's posture told him that it was better not to step closer. "What happened, Julian?" he asked.

Julian's shoulders shook in silent, bitter laughter. "I already told you and I have no doubt that all of you have been discussing it for hours. What's wrong with your memory?"

Cane could not believe his ears. Since they were very little, it had been determined that Cane was the problematic one, the one prone to anger and bad behavior just for the satisfaction of getting on his family's nerves. Julian was the good one, the sensible one. Cane was the one who made sarcastic remarks and gave biting answers. Julian simply did not have it in him.

Except than now, he seemed to be doing it just fine. Of course, he was born a linguist and addressed Cane in a manner that seemed to be a mirror-image of Cane's own bad moments.

"For Merlin's sake, Julian, that isn't like you!"

"Oh? And how, prey tell, do you know what is like me? Just because we live in the same house and happen to share the same blood still doesn't mean that you can dictate what is and what isn't like me, Cane!"

Cane was starting to get angry, although his concern did not abate. If anything, it only grew stronger. "I know you enough to know that just walking around and throwing Unforgivables at any scamp you come across is not your style. Hell, it isn't even mine!"

"And Mr Cane Perfect Black is the one who defines how high the lath for acceptable behavior can be held and the rest of us can only stay below it."

The sudden outburst surprised Cane. For a second time in his life, Julian was making a bitter comment about his own defect, compared to Cane's obvious charm and physical health, the first time being mere hours ago. It was true that sometimes – like now – he was able to hide his physical discomfort under his Metamorphmagus disguise and of course, there was his chronic arthritis, but other than that, he was remarkably healthy and strong. Julian, on the other hand, was too often incapacitated by his congenital problems and his missing eyesight did not exactly make things better. Sometimes, Cane had wondered whether his brother resented that comparison, but Julian had never given any sign of that. It seemed that, after all, he did feel some resentment.

"I am not perfect."

"Then don't stay here reading me a sermon."

"I want to understand. I – "

Julian laughed darkly and suddenly turned to Cane. Something in his face that so resembled their mother made Cane shudder: he had seen that same mulish expression before, when he was very little and Angela and Sirius had started quarreling frequently. Sirius had worn the same mask of unthinking anger and refusal to understand anything but his frantic worry for the Potters. The only difference was in their eyes: Sirius' had burned with fury and savage energy, while Julian's stayed the same: dark, unfocused, dead. Cane suspected that, had he looked in his mirror in his wild months of uncontrolled anger at the world after Elise's death, he would have seen the same expression on his own face. An image of the Muggle hospital flashed in his mind: the doctors, the needle, the sickening system that helped him purge of the alcohol poisoning… _Merlin, he cannot end up like this! Not he! _

"They are not worth it, Julian. They are absolute morons – "

"Yeah, that's what I've been repeating to myself for _five years_!" Julian gritted his teeth. "And they never becdme less of morons because of that. The only thing I'm sorry is that I didn't make it stronger. Ah well, next time I'll try harder."

Cane stared at him, horrified. "No, there won't be a next time," he said, softly. "Or did you forget that you've been thrown out of Beauxbatons?"

"I am blind, not stupid, but thanks for reminding me anyway."

Cane realized that he was getting nowhere. "I'm going to bed," he said. "Try to have a few hours of sleep. It's night."

Julian turned his head back to 'stare' at the moon. "It's always night for me, or have you forgotten that?" he asked.

Cane left in a hurry, before he could hear something worse. Julian was never the one for self-pity. He was strong; he was a survivor. _Dear Morgaine, he was – until now._

Once in the corridor, at safe distance from his brother's room – for Julian, with his keen hearing, would undoubtedly hear the fall – he leaned on the wall and slid down, gaining the strength he would need for making the trip to his room. His wounds were burning and his blood seemed to have forgotten how to circulate. He could not feel his limbs anymore.

It was then when he heard the sound of a door opening. He made an effort to stand up, and could not. Fortunately, it was Arion who came out of the living room and went to him, helping him get to his feet. "I heard you leaving his room," he whispered. "Are you all right?"

"No."

Arion helped him to the living room and then offered him his own full cup of tea. He sat there, while Cane drank it. His calm presence, the silence and the effect of tea combined soon softened Cane's shock. He told Arion about the conversation and waited for his friend to speak up his mind. He had a great trust in Arion's judgment.

Sometime, halfway through the story, slight steps echoed in the hall and Fleur and Arielle entered the living room. Cane did not stop talking and they just sat and listened. That was an old habit of theirs – to get together in the night during a crisis and discuss all its aspects. They had done it many times at Beauxbatons – after the tragic accident with John Lupin, after Elise's death, when Fleur had returned from the Triwizard Tournament pale and shaken by Voldemort's return and Cedric Diggory's death… The girls heard enough to get an idea about how serious the situation was.

"And he told you that it was always night for him?" Arielle asked. Julian was trying so hard to prove that his blindness didn't matter that Cane could not blame her for the disbelief that now sounded in her voice.

"Oh yes," Cane nodded. "I felt as if I was talking to someone else – a stranger with Julian's face, Julian's voice, in his clothes – someone I have never met in my life."

"Oh God," Arielle muttered. "I need a glass of brandy."

Now, when she said it, the others felt the same desire, but no one moved – it would be very rude of them to enjoy a glass of soothing alcohol when Arielle could not.

Cane suddenly felt too weary to pretend anymore and let his scars show. No one commented – they had seen his real face the day before and it was clear that he would not hide the wounds in front of them, of all people.

"I'd say that it's a beginning of a nervous collapse," Arion finally said. "A mild one if we are lucky."

"We won't be," was Cane's dark prognosis. "Merlin, I hoped that at least he will escape it, but no…"

"From what I saw today, I'd say you're right," Fleur agreed. "Our problems are just about to start."

"But what on earth is going on, Cane?" Arielle asked. "Refusing to give Uncle any explanation, saying all those things to you, using the _Cruciatus Curse_, of all things! I had no idea that he _knew_ how to do it! Why is he like that? What's wrong with him?"

"That's what I wanted to discuss with you." He looked at the others. "He behaves like a man possessed! If I didn't know better, I'd say that he's under the effect of the _Imperius_!"

"Are you sure that he isn't?"

Cane thought about that. He wanted it to be so. Unfortunately, he knew that it wasn't. "Yes, I'm sure," he finally said.

"I wish Pam could examine him," Arion said and there was pain and grief in his eyes – he had always liked his late stepmother and had admired her professional success as mental specialist. She had achieved such a success with Arion himself, when he had been Julian's age and falling apart. "We must find somebody else – someone competent… But the war is making everything harder… Maybe Dad could find someone. We shouldn't let Julian tumble in the dark without specialized health."

"Do you think…?" Cane started.

"No. Do not get it into your head that we all share the nightmare that haunts you. We aren't talking about an inbred tendency to get violent to the point of losing your head, when you stop thinking, I'm certain."

"And why are you so certain?"

Arion shrugged. "I am because through the years, I've had the chance to see too many breakdowns. Actually, it was my mother who led me to think so. She wasn't herself when John got cursed, but the temporary nervous collapse went away and now she's all right again. And I don't even need to mention what happened to you and me, do I? We got over it, however. Why shouldn't Julian overcome it, too?"

Cane wearily rubbed the undamaged side of his face. After a while, he heard himself saying, "I suppose it just came so unexpectedly, Arion, and with no good reason, like the ones you, your mother and I had. He isn't himself and that scares me out of my wits. I am not sure how to act. I just don't know!"

"That's why I'm trying to hammer into your head that Julian's breakdown has nothing to do with your foolish outrages and even less with Sirius and his mother. I know exactly what you think about Sirius' arrest and his mother's attack on Aunt Elise."

"I don't want to talk about it." Cane closed his eyes. "I've got nothing to say."

"Sure, but we do," Arielle interjected. "I've been thinking a lot about it, all these years. You've turned the past into a medieval nightmare that has nothing to so with reality."

"Arielle is right," Arion added in his ever so calm voice. "What's happened, after all? Sirius was twenty-two and since he hadn't had any great troubles in his marriage, he suffered from the foolish delusion that bringing money and sex home should be enough for his wife and reading you to sleep and bringing you toys was enough to make him a good father, so he felt free to devote all his attention to James Potter and his family, who really needed support, don't be mistaken about that. Instead of leaving him, like many women would do in her place, your mother chose to stay with him and try to change his mind. Then, the Potters were betrayed and Sirius knew that the one responsible was the same man that _he_ had trusted – that _he_ had persuaded them to take as a Secret Keeper instead of him. For the moment, the shock blocked all his senses and he went on a foolish pursue that landed him in Azkaban. Awful but simple and understandable. Then, years later, a woman who had had a hard life… "

Cane snorted at this description of his grandmother.

"A woman who had had a hard life," Arion continued smoothly, "had to accept that her husband had poured the effort of her whole life down the drain by leaving everything they still had left to a blood-traitor – you. Since she was already unstable, that made her officially freak out. The result was easy to predict."

"The result," Cane said bitterly. "You mean my planned death that ultimately turned into Elise's death."

"Which led you to all your idiocies before you finally grew out of them. The situation was tragic, I am the first one to admit it, but it's hardly worth Edgar Allen Poe writing a poem about it."

"Who is Edgar Allen Poe?" Fleur asked. "A Muggle poet?"

But Cane was not interested in Poe. "What could be more terrible than reacting to shocks the violent way we all do? I thought Julian made a lucky exception, but Merlin, did he make a spectacular entrance to our world of 'hex first, ask questions later, if you intend to ask them at all'!"

Arion grew angry. "Here we are again! Listen, Cane, you're intelligent. You can't keep thinking in this illogical way…"

"Just watch me!"

"So, that was it," Fleur said slowly. "I've always wondered what made you so hostile towards Sirius. I had no idea… "

"That I'm afraid of him? Well, now you know! I am afraid, because I am more like him that I care to admit and he's more like his mother than _he_ cares to admit. We're rush. Violent. Unable to think rationally when we're lost in rage. Casting an Unforgivable at age fifteen, for God's sake! Do you have any idea what would have happened to him if he had been seventeen?"

_Prison_, they all thought. _Nothing less_.

"You have no idea how much that trait of ours scares me… I've learned to keep it under control, but it's always there. I'm afraid what's going to happen until _he_ learns to keep it under control."

Arielle stood up and produced a bottle of Firewhiskey from the closet. Cane drank and passed the bottle around. Not surprisingly, the liquid soothed not only his nerves, but the pain in his face and eye, as well.

"I suggest that you think of your father and grandmother as ordinary people, trapped in a situation that they couldn't get under control. And Merlin knows that the situation that you were in was non-controlable," Arion finally said. "That's much closer to the truth than the medieval melodrama you're creating."

He was so normal, rational and positive that Cane, Arielle and Fleur looked at each other with the same thought: how on earth had they survived almost _two years_ without him to keep them in line? It was as if they could drink of his calmness and clear their heads of every bit of negativity.

"And try not to think of Julian," Arion went on, "as someone who had changed all of a sudden. This nervous breakdown should have happened years ago, if you ask me. I'll never know how on earth he managed to keep going for so long. He will suffer for a while and then he will get on his feet again. Hopefully, without killing somebody in the process."

He said the last bit so prosaically that the other three just looked at him, amazed. Then, Cane suddenly grinned. "It's so good to have you back, mate," he said and warmed the tea. "To your return!"

He Conjured cups and passed them around. Fleur stood up. "I'd better go back to bed, before Bill wakes up and files a suit for divorce," she said.

Arielle threw her a quick look. "You didn't tell me how he reacted to your wish to stay for the night," she said. "I'm afraid that we might prove to be more than a little nuisance for your husband."

Fleur gave a non-concerned shrug. "Given the fact that he has seven – no, make that eight – members of his immediate family and his twin brothers are doing their best to turn me into their guinea-pig, he really isn't the one to talk."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next day…_

The moment Cane entered the kitchen in the morning, he realized that the talk with Remus that he had in mind would have to wait. Everyone had gathered for a war council – except for Michel and Sarah, of course. Cane did not need to hear it spoken aloud to know that Charles' condition had not changed, although Michel was better. _At least Charles isn't worse_. "What happened?" he asked tiredly.

"Do you want something for breakfast, or coffee?" Sylvie asked, instead of answering. "We have buns, eggs and bacon, and – "

"No. Tell me what's going on."

It was Sirius who gave him the answer, with concern evident in his voice. "They intend to hit Tower Bridge."

"_They intend to do what?_" Cane asked and automatically looked at the others for confirmation. Everyone avoided his eyes. Even the kids – Lily and Lucien – were not chatting about magic and Durmstrang, but were listening intently.

"It's true," Kingsley confirmed. "We'll warn the Muggle Prime Minister… if he is willing to listen to us in time, of course. It isn't easy to evacuate such a big artery. But even if he takes measures to ensure that the bridge will be empty tonight, they might suspect something and just choose another target."

"God! Aunt Sylvie, I think I'll accept a cup of coffee, after all."

"Wise decision. Here you are. How is Arielle?"

"Sleeping. She's had a hard night. So, what are we going to do?"

"No idea," she said, with a helpless shrug. "But that isn't the worst of it. It seems that they've finally found Gregorovitch's body."

He wasn't surprised. The old wandmaker had been missing far too long. Cane's bets were on his death. The others really should have been prepared. "I'm sorry," he said, "but why exactly does this fact make things worse?"

"The Dark Lord seems to have extracted from him basic information about a wand he's been looking for since his return."

"The Elder Wand," Cane said, barely audibly. At the thought of this wand in Voldemort's hands, he felt his heart missing a beat. "What do you mean, basic?"

"We know that Gregorovitch made some experiments with wands, giving them more strength than such tools should be given," Margo interrupted. "According to Alain, he had kept them in various places, for safety. So far, Vold… the Dark Lord has rummaged two of them and doesn't intend to stop."

"So, if the Elder Wand is in one of them, we must find it before him," Cane concluded.

"I know the approximate location of three such hiding-places," Alain said, "or at least, suspect it. But I cannot leave now, for I have to take care of the bridge."

"Really? And what exactly are you planning to do?" Cane's voice was dripping with sarcasm. The cold coffee left a metallic taste in his mouth. "When the Prime Minister cannot ensure the timely evacuation and _even if_ he succeeds, the Death Eaters are likely to choose another target, seeing that this one is empty?"

"If the Prime Minister and everyone else are ready to follow my plan, I will make it impossible for them to leave once they Apparate near the bridge."

Cane's eyebrows rose. "Meaning that… ?"

"An accident." Alain smiled a thin smile that did not suit his handsome face, but fitted his burn scar. "Some potions and spells combined can have curious effects… add to this an Antiapparition charm and you have the mice where you want them – right in the trap."

James and Sirius stared at him incredulously. Then James said cynically, "You must be one tough historian of magic."

Alain looked at Margo, to see if she was still ready to go on with the explanations. She nodded. "Perhaps you might better understand if I told you that for a very long time, Margo and I had two different working schedules. One was linked to our historical researches and the other one – to our work for the Dark Activities Council."

"Never heard of it," Sirius said.

Kingsley Shacklebolt gave Alain a bemused stare. "I have. It is rumoured to be an obscure and highly secretive organization that works behind the scenes in Ministere de la magie. No one in the British Ministry – or the French, for that matter – has ever been able to come up with a solid proof of either its existence or its financing."

"What is its function?" Sirius asked.

"To carry out covert activities under the direct supervision of the Minister outside the French nation's other magical intelligence services without their knowledge – except for the Head of the Auror Department and his second in command," Alain replied.

Automatically, all eyes turned to Sylvie, who was the second in command in question. She nodded, very briefly.

"What kind of activities?"

"Dirty tricks on people believed to be Dark wizards but not proven so in court," Tonks answered, studying Alain's face for some kind of sign. But the blond-haired man's expression was aloof and remote. "There is a rumour their primary directive is to carry out assassinations."

"Merlin's pants!"

"Dear Morgaine!"

"Get these kids out of here – "

"Lily, go to your room – "

"_Shut up!_" Alain commanded. "It is useless for grown-ups to go into hysterics just because they've heard some things about real life."

Everyone fell silent and he went on, switching to his pleasant, everyday tone, "Of course, Linda, if you don't want your daughter to hear this conversation, it's your right to send her to her room."

"No!" Lily protested.

"But Lucien will stay and hear all we've got to say – I suspect that he already knows the basics." He looked at his son, who had the decency to look ashamed. "Yes, so I thought. He's a veteran at eavesdropping."

Lucien looked proud, although one look at his grandfather made him think twice before he said so.

Linda looked thoughtful. Finally, she sighed and turned to Lily, "Very well, you can stay. But only because it's a war and nothing you can hear in this room could possibly be worse than what's happening outside."

Lily looked as if she wanted to kiss her mother. Sirius was suddenly reminded of a similar conversation, two years ago, when in this same kitchen they had argued over Harry being allowed or not to stay for the meeting.

This matter settled, everyone's attention turned to Alain, who stared at Tonks with hard and cold eyes. "I freely admit that for seventeen years, until we retired to devote our time to historical researches alone, Margo and I had dealt with tasks that would not pass a legal test."

"I am not surprised," Kingsley said sarcastically. "By passing yourselves as scientists, you were never suspected to be the Minister's hired killers."

"For your information, Auror Shacklebolt, our academic credentials are not counterfeit. Margo specialized in medieval history of magic and I specialized in ancient one. We have no misgivings about the duties we performed under two Ministers. By eliminating certain people who we knew for sure were Dark wizards, but had the money, the influence or the magic skill to be acquitted or even not prosecuted by the law, Margo and I saved more innocent lives than you can imagine."

Unconsciously, Kingsley nodded. He knew what Montresorre was talking about. One of the hardest things in being Auror was to watch how guilty people – people, who beyond doubt _were_ Dark wizards – walked away free.

Yet, he needed to hear more before he made up his mind about Montresorre's trustworthiness. "How and when did you start?"

Alain poured himself a cup of chocolate. "It started with the death of my brother," he said. "Lucien."

"How did he die?"

"Oh don't be so meticulous!" Alain cut him off. "You know that I killed him. For God's sake, everyone knows it! Duel champion number three in the world killed by his seventeen year old brother as act of mercy, before said brother have a complete nervous breakdown, it made the headlines in the magical newspapers in the whole world for months – "

"I was there," Kingsley suddenly said. "When he won the tournament. I was nine or ten, I think. I saw him… and you."

Alain smiled slightly. "When he beat me, you mean. He became number one in the world. I stayed number two."

"Well… yes. Why did you lose?"

"Because it was not my day." The smile grew. "Besides, I lost only by five-hundredths of a points. It happens from time to time."

"So, how did you start with the murdering department?"

"After I recovered from the nervous breakdown, I went on with my dueling career but I retired when I was twenty-two. It was then when they contacted me. I had gained a reputation as a dueling champion, my grades were good enough and I was embittered and thirsty for revenge on all Death Eaters that I could find. I could be a poster boy for what they looked for. They recruited me for training."

"And Miss Saint Claire? What about her?"

Sirius looked at Margo and something that had been bothering him since the battle in the mountain suddenly found its explanation. "The way she acted familiar with spells," he said. "Bellatrix was right. You _are_ a pair of murderers."

She nodded in agreement. "Your cousin has an inner eye. It takes an assassin to know one."

"How did you start, Miss Saint Claire?" Kingsley insisted.

Alain looked at Margo, who nodded. "First of all, technically she isn't Miss Saint Claire, although she uses that name. She is Mrs Berge. She married Francois, a classmate of ours, two years after we graduated. I attended her wedding. Right after the ceremony, there was a Death Eaters attack and Francois was killed, as well as many others. The bride's gown was red with the blood of Francois and so many others." For a moment, he closed his eyes. "Afterwards Margo's situation was basically similar to mine. We soon started working in a team. Sometimes, our job as historians was the perfect excuse for showing up on sites where any sensible people wouldn't go. Years later, we fell in love and kept working. Finally, Margo got pregnant and God, we couldn't bring up yet _another_ child while leading a life of spies and killers." For a moment, he looked at his son and there was a mix of sadness and guilt on his face. "Besides, we were not getting any younger. Honestly, we were just fed up! We retired." He shrugged. "Still, the mastery remains."

"The mastery?" Kingsley repeated sharply.

"We specialized in accidents," Margo chipped in. "And an accident we shall arrange for the Death Eaters. By accident, I mean a trap. We can do it."

Kingsley gave her a doubtful look. "I wonder what else you specialized in… "

"So you all see where our problem lies," Alain said. "I need to be here for the preparations and the Dark Lord can find the Elder Wand at any moment. We should not lose a minute. The hiding-places that I know are all nearby the region that Gregorovitch lived in and they are impossible to find if you don't know where to look. Michel could go to the Island-That-Isn't and take the wands from there, but he must be with Charles, he cannot leave him. And he isn't strong enough himself. Fleur won't find the island, because she's never been there, and Father is in no shape for such a trip."

If the trip was similar to the one that they had performed to the Veela's realms, it was more than understandable that Alain would not let Dominic even try.

"Well," Christine said slowly, "I am in good shape and I know where the island is…"

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Four hours later…_

"When are we going to be there?" James wanted to know, trying to hide his exhaustion. By the look Christine gave him, he was not doing a good job of it. The limitations of human magic did not let them Apparate exactly on the spot and after almost twenty years, Christine had quite forgotten what exactly the island look like, so she could not take them there with her Veela magic. So, they had to walk, but Merlin, was it hard! It was cold, and unpleasant, the dry wind made the two men's eyes water and the high altitude made the air thinner, so James and Sirius had the feeling that any moment now, they would stop breathing.

Unlike them, Christine looked vital and fresh-complexioned, the rosy colour of her cheeks made her look years younger and her eyes were shining, taking in every gray slope and every dead leave. It was like being in the Veela's realms again had made her feel some kind of regeneration. She moved quickly and easily, like dancing, and if she wanted, she could have left the two men far behind. She didn't look ill at all.

"Soon," she said now. "Sorry for accompanying me already?" she asked teasingly.

"We asked to accompany you," James reminded her. Letting her come here alone, when Death Eaters could show up at any step had not been an option.

"Then brace yourselves. We are almost there." And she led them on the next path.

A few minutes later, she stepped aside from the path and looked around very intently. "Yes," she muttered, "that must be it…"

And she stepped in the middle of a small circle of rocks. Her face hardened, she concentrated and made an effort to remove the protective magic that hid the island from both Muggles and wizards. She felt its crumbling.

"Here it is," she breathed. "The Island-That-Isn't."

"Wow!" Sirius said, impressed.

The rocks had moved apart and now the three of them were staying on the shore of a beautiful lake – wide, blue and shining. They could not see its opposite side, so big it was. Near the shore, the colours shaded from light green to indigo blue and on the inner rocks of the island they were violet.

Here it was, in the middle of the lake – the Island-That-Isn't. It looked just like Christine still saw it in her dreams. The shining half-moon bay was still the same, caressed by the tiny waves. The pine-tree still guarded the island from the first rock and Christine remembered how often she had sat in its shade, dreaming of the things she would do one day.

Well, she hadn't come here to remember times long gone. She looked around and saw the boat waiting for them. Smiling, she reached to push it in the water and just like she had expected, the two men startled and hurried to do it instead of her. The moment they boarded, the boat carried them straight for the island, unguided by anyone's hand.

"Now we must go to the cave," Christine announced, after they stepped on the ground. "We should go round this rock."

After a while, James could not help but ask, "How do you find your way so easy? You haven't been here for twenty years and the island is not inhabitable, so it must have changed a lot."

Christine threw a look at him over her shoulder and laughed. "I am afraid you give me too much credit," she admitted. "This island has looked this way for centuries. It looks after itself."

"Oh," James said. Since they had stepped in the mountain, Christine had considerably softened toward him and was not giving him the cold shoulder anymore. Instead, she looked eager to show him her world and make him like it. James did not know the reason for that sudden change, but he was happy with it. It reminded him of their first years together. Even more, it reminded him of a woman he had never actually met, a young Christine from the time her life and ability to experience love and happiness had not been marred by tragedies. He certainly preferred this Christine to his broken, embittered, revengeful wife.

"Watch your step!" she warned, while they were coming near a narrow path in the next rock. "The road is too close to the precipice." The gorge was wide and looking straight at the lake.

"Go ahead," James said.

Shortly before reaching the top, Christine suddenly disappeared and James and Sirius were stunned with fear – they thought that she had fallen into the lake. "Christine!" James cried.

"Find me," her voice came back and he followed her on the other side of the rock, only to see the precipice and a few warped trees. The path was no more.

Christine smiled at his disappointed face and James could not believe his eyes when she stepped behind a tree and disappeared into the rock.

"Hell, where did she go?" Sirius asked, arriving at that same moment.

James grinned, followed her behind the tree and also disappeared.

It was cool inside. He waited until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. There was a single sunray lightening the cave like a candle.

Christine was standing a few steps ahead of him, looking at him. Far beneath them, James could hear the soft splash of the waves. "Come with me," she said, when Sirius joined them, and they followed her through the dark tunnels that led downwards.

"This cave is practically invisible, if you don't know what you're looking for," she explained. "It's a perfect place for Gregorovitch to hide his wands. Ah, here they are." She pointed at a big wooden chest and when they opened it, they saw wands – scores of wands, short and long, thick and narrow, all glistening and shining, and inviting them to raise a hand and touch them. Christine silently vowed to try each one of them – the one that she currently used was given to her by the Order and did not match her the way her former one had. "He had many friends among Veelas," she continued.

"Did he?" Sirius asked.

Christine smiled. "He was the one who made my mother's wand. He was fascinated by the challenge of it – to create a wand for a being that was similar to humans in many aspects and yet not quite human. To explore combinations until he found one that befitted her human side without suppressing her earth magic. Later, he made my first wand and those of my siblings. Since he realized that these with mixed blood were special cases, he never let it to chance to decide whether they would leave his shop with the best wand for them or not – he made them especially for each one. He did not care about our mixed heritage – all he was interested in was the excitement of creating something extraordinary for someone who was not quite ordinary. All he cared about was success. That's why everyone wanted to have a Gregorovitch wand…"

She tossed her head aside. "Well, it really isn't the time for that, gentleman. Take them and let's go."

"What's this cave?" James asked.

"It's called the Love Cave," Christine explained with a straight expression. "You see, it's a deep cave going down to the sea level. People who are in love come here and climb almost to the bottom, where they listen to the sound of the waves." Then, she suddenly turned to Sirius. "Who would you like to bring here?"

"Linda," he replied, impulsively, and heard James' laughter. "Hey, why did you do that for?" he asked the blonde.

She smiled widely. "Just checking."

"Huh," was all Sirius said and seeing his face, James dissolved again.

Fifteen minutes later, when they reached the shore and saw who was waiting for them there, no one laughed.

"Well, thank you," Antonin Dolohov drawled with irony, "we really couldn't have found the cave without your kind help."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Ten minutes later…_

"James?" Christine whispered.

He turned to her. She was sitting very still next to him, Sirius at her other side. James took her cold hand into his own. The Death Eaters had not shackled them, for there was no possibility of them running away – not when human magic was not effective here and they were outnumbered three to one.

They heard the Death Eaters talk about the fate that awaited them. Voldemort would make James' capture widely known before killing him. Christine would be given to her cousin Simon Montresorre – a fate that was worse than death. She was already shuddering with spasms of a panic attack – the healing effect of the Veela places was over, her fear of Simon overriding it. James was afraid that she'd lose control right here, in the lake.

The boat had already left the shore far behind. "They must have been lurking about the entrance, just waiting to get a drop on us," James whispered, angry at himself for not foreseeing that the enemies might know that they would come and that every step of theirs might be known to Voldemort.

The other two shared the same sentiments. Sirius was looking straight ahead. Christine had her eyes closed, trying to think of something, to break the deadlock. They were in the middle of Veelas' realms and yet she was so helpless!

Produce a fire? Not a bad idea, but all the Death Eaters needed was to strike her unconscious and the flames would die with her. Make the boat fall apart beneath them? The Death Eaters were too many for them to handle: they could strangle them to death even in the water. Create a storm? She hadn't done it in twenty years and wasn't even sure that she could do it properly. Probably, she would end up by attracting a lightening to the boat. It was a strange irony that she was a captive in the same place where she had laughed, run, enjoyed the sun, swum…

Swum!

Her eyes snapped open and she frantically looked around. Her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid of the Death Eaters hearing it. "James?"

He squeezed her hand more tightly, thinking that she was afraid.

"Do you trust me?" she asked in French.

"Shut up!" one of the Death Eaters growled and made a gesture as if he was going to hit her.

Christine obediently lowered her head and gave Sirius a warning look, while at the same time she was squeezing James' hand – she felt them both getting angry. They shouldn't be hurt right now. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course," James whispered back, surprised.

She looked at Sirius and then James. "Then jump in the water when I jump. You must follow me. I brought you to the cave, didn't I? I'll bring you there again. Please trust me. And whatever happens, look at me, not the sky."

"The sky? Why would I…?"

She was getting desperate. Every moment delay meant a second more for them to spend without breathing. James saw her nervousness. _Better drowning than Voldemort killing us_, he thought. "I trust you, Christine Marie," he whispered. Sirius nodded.

Christine looked at the location of the island and stood up, raising her hands above her head. The Death Eaters looked at her and one of them reached for her just when the clear blue sky was torn by a lightening, followed by a torrent of rain that made the boat jerk. A tremendous thunderstorm made everyone deaf for a moment. "What's going on?" someone yelled.

"It's the half-breed – seize her!"

But even while three pair of hands reached for her, Christine hissed, still in French, "Take a deep breath. Come on!" And she jumped in the water. Sirius and James followed her. The next moment, the sudden storm ended – Christine could not keep it from under the water, but it had provided them the distraction that they so needed.

The Death Eaters examined the surface frantically. These who had knives had them at hand, ready to apply them on their former captives the moment they emerged from the water.

But they didn't emerge. For almost half an hour the Death Eaters struggled with the bloody boat that obviously wanted only to go back to the shore, and kept it in the lake, but there was not even the slightest sign of the two men and the woman who mere minutes ago had been held so securely prisoners. They even let the boat take them to the shore and then back to the island – its usual route, so this time it did not protest – and searched the side – again unsuccessfully. Now, they had to give the Dark Lord the news that they had let their captives _drown_ while taking them to prison. No one was too eager to meet his anger.


	41. A Magic Called Dark

_Thanks for each and every review for this story._

Chapter 48

_At the same time…_

James followed Christine in the deep water and it suddenly occurred to him that she was a siren leading him to his wet grave. He feared that his lungs will explode any minute now, and she swam in front of him, as if she had been born in the gentle waves. He'd never seen anyone moving in water so easily. Her long hair was blowing in like seaweeds. James tried to kick his shoes off, but there was no time for that, so he continued advancing in the turquoise depths inhabited only by fish, turtles, and strange underwater beings like Christine Lasall.

James and Sirius felt their ears ringing and their chests stinging; with a wave of fear, they saw Christine disappearing behind an underwater rock.

They followed her, struggling for staying conscious. Gradually, they felt faint by the lack of oxygen, but then the lake suddenly became brighter. Christine grasped James' hand and headed upward, dragging him alongside her.

And then, there was a blessed air filling his lungs, and the sky was coloured blue and gold by the sun. James breathed in, then again, and saw Sirius doing the same. The air was humid here, between the rocks standing out of the water in a small circle, protecting the escapees from anyone's view.

Christine's blue eyes shone jubilantly, she dived again and led the two men through a dark, narrow tunnel winding through one of the rocks.

James and Sirius had almost lost hope they'd ever feel a solid ground beneath their feet again, when they felt themselves stepping on wet sand; not even a minute later, they were standing in a cave. "It's the same cave we visited earlier," Christine said, smiling. "There are two entrances to it… and we just used the underground one."

"You mean the underwater one," Sirius corrected her, grinning, just before he slipped on a stone and fell on top of James… Who fell on top of Christine… Who yelled in surprise and declared that they should be both put on diet. And then the three of them laughed, happy just to be alive.

"Thanks for saving my life, Christine," Sirius said.

"I expect that you'll be able to return the favor, at any rate," she grinned. "Get off me, big guy."

James, who had just stood up, looked at them with raised eyebrows. "Maybe I should go and check what's going on, while you're lying on top of one another," he suggested and did just that.

Sirius stood up. Christine kept lying on the ground, drenched through the bone, and suddenly started trembling. She felt awfully cold in the cool cave. Her teeth were chattering. She stood up and hugged herself, trying to get some warmth.

"They are searching the coast for us. They seem frantic with worry. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes when they have to tell Voldemort that they lost us. Here, we are safe." James had come back. "Christine?" he said, looking at her hunched form. "You are shaking,"

He knelt in front of her, took her in his arms and carried her to a place where there was a faint bunch of sunrays penetrating the twilight. Then, he started rubbing her arms and shoulders. "We are very lucky that you remembered about that second entrance," he said. "The cave is practically invisible, unless you know where to look at. We are safe here."

"We lost the wands," Sirius pointed out.

"But we kept our lives," Christine said, "so don't you complain."

Soon, she stopped trembling. The two men were looking at her. "What?" she asked.

"What are we going to do now?" James asked. "We are confined here and we don't have our wands anymore."

She blinked, suddenly having realized that she was the one in charge. "We're going to stay here until tomorrow," she said, "because I assume that they're going to wait for us outside, just to make sure that we haven't survived. Then, we're going to the Veelas' realms." She tried to hide the sudden pleasure that this perspective gave her. "Don't be such children," she added, seeing their fallen faces. "It isn't far from here, I promise."

"I hope we don't catch a cold," James muttered, thinking of the night that they would have to spend here in the cool cave.

"We'll have to wait and see," Sirius said.

Less than an hour later, the Death Eaters left the island. The three of them took that with relief and went outside to get some warmth.

"Christine," James said.

She looked at him, surprised by his serious tone. "What?"

"How did you do it? The storm, I mean." James wanted to make a full use of her sudden lack of hostility. "I mean, I know you did it with your Veela powers, but I don't know what they are. What is Veela magic like?"

She gave him a strange look. "You have no idea? I thought your friend Remus – "

"No," James said, "I have no idea."

She shrugged. "It's very simple, actually. We are creatures of Nature and our magic is simply using its elements, in one way or another."

"Like the storm you created?"

Christine nodded. "We can control all elements, more or less, but it's always one of them that the most manageable, for everyone. Men are usually better in controlling fire and earth, while women are better with water and wind. But it isn't always so." There was a sudden smile on her lips. "I am a Stormlady – my best talent is creating and controlling storms and that's the rarest gift of all. For everyone." There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. Pride – and a little fear. "Elise was a Winddancer," she kept talking. "Alain is a Firelord – I can't imagine how my parents managed to bring him up, with this habit of his to set the nursery afire at each tantrum – " She laughed. "Anyway, that's it, mostly – we use the powers of Nature to create what is called Veela magic, but it isn't, really. We can help the vegetation, we can link with animals and we can turn into ones, although we can't keep it for long –"

"You are Animagi?" Sirius interrupted.

"No," Christine denied. "Becoming an Animagus means Transfiguring yourself into your eternal animal. It is a magic that is acquired – unless you happen to be an Animorphus, of course."

"Which hasn't happened for one thousand years," Sirius said. "Personally, I doubt that Animorphi ever existed, really. But that isn't the topic right now. So, Christine, you were saying - ?"

"That our ability to turn into animals is inborn and not acquired. We can change into every animal we want – but we can't keep this appearance for long. Two or three hours, at most, and even that is a tremendous loss of energy."

"Oh!" James said, realizing something. "So, that's what the boy – Lucien – did that night? He changed into a wolf, I mean. I did wonder, because he was really young to be an Animagus – he can't be more than fourteen."

"He's exactly that age," Christine confirmed, "and yes, that's it. But it's easy for him, because he was born to a mother, who was almost a full-bloodied Veela, and Alain is half-Veela himself. In fact, Lucien has more Veela genes that his father and thus transformations are easier for him. And I think the wolf is his internal animal – the only one whose form he can take for as long as he wants."

"Do you have an internal animal?" James asked curiously.

"Of course I do. So, where was I? Ah yes. We can change into animals and we can control fertility – although we should be careful, because we are _way_ too fertile – "

Sirius looked at his friend with ill-concealed mirth. James glared at him. Well, now he knew how Christine's two pregnancies had become possible, when she had made it clear that she had no intention of having children. She had gotten pregnant with Malory despite all the precautions and she had conceived Dominic while she was still breastfeeding her two-month-old – a highly unusual timing for getting pregnant.

"Of course, we can also cause infertility in people, although we rarely do it – it's against our nature. We are supposed to help fertility, not kill it."

"Have you ever done such a thing?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Yes, I did twice."

James looked at her, shocked. What kind of a woman was the one that he had married? At that moment, he felt repulsed by her cruelty.

"It was here, in this mountain." Christine's voice was soft, her eyes were turned to her past. "He lay in my feet, dead – my brother, Lucien, tortured, broken… killed by Alain. Saved by Alain who collapsed next to him. There were eight of them Death Eaters against three of us." She smiled bitterly. "She took no chances. You know, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. The Muggle author?" she added when they looked at her, uncomprehending. "Shakespeare? Ever heard of him?"

Sirius stared at her. "You say Bellatrix was in love with your brother?"

"I say no such thing. She was simply attracted to him. She's been this way since her first day at Beauxbatons, when she arrived to spend a year with us as an exchange student." She looked at the two men. "I know everyone deems your Headmaster a very wise man, but to me, the decision to send someone like _Bellatrix Black_ to represent your school abroad spoke of no great wisdom."

They could hardly argue with that, although they could try to explain that Dumbledore had had no say in the matter – Bellatrix had been a very proficient student. "She liked him from the minute she saw him," Christine went on. "Lucien was very attractive – sexually, I mean. Despite his being a half-breed. She loathed him, and hated him, and desired him. A few accidents happened to his girlfriend that I was sure were Black's doing, but I couldn't prove it. She'd rather die than let my brother touch her – not that he wanted to; Lucien had a very keen sense of evil, - but he wasn't allowed to be close to any other girl. And they finally killed him. That night, I unleashed Bendida's curse upon her, making it impossible for her to ever conceive a child, no matter what she did."

"They said that her womb was burned and withered inside her," Sirius remembered, "and no one knew the reason."

Christine nodded. "They couldn't know it, it wasn't the usual magic of a wizard. It was a Veela curse. And she fully deserved it. That's why I do not feel sorry for her, even now. She was evil to the bone."

She stood up. "Well," she said, "are we going to stay here, talking about that woman, or the two of you would like to go around and have a look at The-Island-That-Isn't?"

"What if they come back to look for us?" Sirius asked.

Christine laughed and her blue eyes started shining. In this moment, she looked exactly like her mischievous little boy, the blonde kid Sirius had seen twice – when Dominic had decided that it was a great idea to fill Sirius' shoes with mud. "This is my island, Sirius Black. They are only going to try to find us."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Early the next morning…_

It was unpleasantly cold while Cissy and Arion hurried in the Parisian streets – too cold even for the late autumn. There was something sinister in the bleak darkness of the deserted streets of the wizard part of the great city. _The paranoia that's washing over the wizard part of London has reached Paris_, the young woman thought and grabbed Arion's hand.

He looked at her, surprised, and then his face softened. "It doesn't feel like our city anymore, does it?" he asked softly.

The girl shook her head, while they were walking past the café, where they had met each year to have a rest from shopping for Beauxbatons, laughed and talked for hours. Where had this world gone? What had happened to all of them? To Arion's brother… To Morgaine… To Noel… She briefly leaned her head against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around hers in a silent display of mutual comfort.

The café was dark and empty. Arion sighed and looked at Cissy. "We're going to meet here at noon," he said.

"Yes," she answered, and they separated: she headed for her parents' house, so she could take some things that Noel needed, and he went to the Montresorre family city residence. He had no time to go to his house or rather, the ruins that remained of it and honestly, he had no desire to go there anyway.

The imposing building had been a home of the family for generations. They owned a manor in the country, of course, but Vivienne Montresorre preferred living in Paris and Dominic had no objections. Crossing the spacious garden, Arion wondered, not for a first time, how a woman born and raised in the mountains had come to fit so perfectly into high society. _It couldn't have been easy_, he thought and rang the doorbell.

He did not need to wait for long, before one of the house-elves answered. "Master Arion!" he exclaimed happily. Everyone in this house knew Arion almost from his birth: his grandmother was Dominic's twin sister and he had spent a great deal of time here. "We heard they found you, but yet… Were we expecting you?"

Arion answered the happy grin with his own happy one. "No, I decided to surprise her. She loves surprises."

"That's right. Come in. I'll accompany you. She's in the library."

"I thought she might be."

"Is it true?" the house-elf asked. "Has Mademoiselle Christine finally decided to come back home?"

"I am not sure, but yes, she's with her father now," Arion answered, and the ugly small face shone. Smiling at having made someone so happy, Arion let him open the door of the library.

"Mistress, Master Arion is here to see you."

Vivienne, who was sitting next to the window, quickly turned her head towards them and stood up. "My dear boy, what a surprise!" she exclaimed and hurried to meet him.

Arion could not help but notice how beautiful she still was. He had known her since his birth and if anything, her charm seemed only to have increased during the years. But she looked older than he remembered her from their last meeting, there were a few more wrinkles on her face and a slight tension that he knew was due to distress. The war was taking its tall, even on Vivienne's invulnerable beauty. He smiled at her and hugged her. She held him close. "I am happy that you are okay," she whispered. "I really thought I'd never see you again."

They sat on the sofa together and she looked at him, her blue eyes intent. "Christine?" she asked.

"She is well," Arion said. "She's just as beautiful as I imagined her to be."

Vivienne did not look comforted. Arion shook his head. He had no other choice but tell her. "She's still ill," he said briefly. "It seems that she never really recovered. But she's calm now. She has two healthy kids and – "

"Potter's kids," Vivienne elaborated and for a moment, something fierce crossed her eyes. "Bendida, I never expected that from her."

"She didn't know, Aunt."

"I know she didn't, but what of that?"

"You didn't come to see her."

"I can't," Vivienne explained. "When we heard of James Potter's return, Dominic placed charms that prevent me from entering the house on Grimmauld Place. He's afraid that I'll attack James. Of course, I would have and Dominic knows it." She smiled crookedly. "I did not marry a fool."

"But you won't do anything to him now?"

"How could I? Unfortunately, he's related to us. The blood bond goes through Christine's two children. No, James Potter is perfectly safe from me. How is Michel? Dominic sent word that he's recovering. And Dominic himself was wounded. Has the bleeding stopped, or is that just another charm meant to put my mind at rest?"

"They are both recovering, and Charles too."

"Charles?" she asked sharply, obviously unaware of her grandson's injury. Arion sighed and started to talk about his rescue, carefully editing the part about Cane's injury. Vivienne, however, knew both boys longer than today.

"There is something that you aren't telling me," she said. "He asked you for that, didn't he?"

"No."

"I would ask you not to lie to me, but there would be no use of it. You are a good liar – almost as good as Cane. Very well, I'll let him keep his secret… for now. I wish he weren't so proud and imperious. He will always insist on having his own way and will never admit weakness… what a tremendous loss of time _that_ is. Are you going to visit your grandmother?"

Arion shook his head. "I don't think I'll have the time. Tell her that I love her and think of her, will you?"

She nodded and although it was still quite early, ordered breakfast for both of them. She felt that the young man was trying to delay something that both excited and scared him and she wanted to give him the time he needed. "I heard that Julian was forced to leave school," she said.

Arion looked at her with admiration. "Already? When did you manage?"

She shrugged. "I have some friends."

She had so many friends. It was almost impossible to believe that many years ago, she had been rejected by wizard society as a non-human. "You should take the girls," she said urgently. "Take them away from Beauxbatons! It's dangerous for them there, being so exposed."

Arion nodded. He had already discussed that with his parents and his uncle. "I'll take them to Grimmauld Place."

"Good."

"Something new here?"

She looked at him grimly. "We have a murderer on the loose," she said. "Without the Dark Mark. Killing just for fun."

He sighed. "The world has gone mad."

"Yes. Everything is getting out of control. To make the matter worse, there is a strong Dark infiltration in the Ministry. Reynald expects to be demoted in the Auror department because he's a Muggleborn."

Arion's jaw tightened. That was not his city. That was not his world. And yet, he had to live in it. They all had. He clung to the things he still had left… possibly. "I have something problem to take care of."

"Oh?"

"Chantal," Arion said, very briefly. "It's been almost two years."

Vivienne squeezed his fingers and smiled. _You're so young_, she thought_. At your age, two years must seem like an eternity. Then, to you they probably were, with your imprisonment and all._ "Listen to me," she spoke aloud. "If I have learned something in all my years, it is that if you truly love someone, you should not be afraid to tell them."

Half an hour later, Arion entered the flat that he had once shared with Arielle and Cane. And Chantal.

She stood at the kitchen door, frozen, and stared at him. He stared back. Both had no idea what to do or say. She was dressed for work and everything was waiting for her return in the evening. She looked immaculately elegant, although she lacked the lavish style that she had possessed at Beauxbatons – she no longer had her parents' money to spend. Her dark hair was held in a severe bun, her face, which Arion remembered as perfectly beautiful, was now too gaunt, her lips too thin. Her eyes were fixed on his face and Arion knew what she saw – the effects of his captivity. The outer effects. The others were invisible and he was immensely grateful for that.

For a moment, neither of them could move, frozen in their place, caught between their past happiness and the dark present, and everything that had happened to them in between. Everything they had not shared.

And then, with an absolute certainty, they stepped towards each other. Arion let her hair loose and buried his face in it, feeling the strong squeeze of her slender arms. He closed his eyes and hugged her back. _Maybe all will be okay_, he thought.

–––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two days later…_

There was a strange noise coming from the usually quiet room, where John Lupin's body was still lying on the bed, immobile as ever – whispers of hushed voices, crackling of flames. Sirius and James looked at each other and opened the door. Two girls immediately turned towards them, guilt written all over their faces. Cissy and Lily. The third girl, Morgaine, was staring in the fireplace with unblinking, unseeing eyes.

"What are you doing, for Merlin's sake?" Sirius asked, immediately recognizing the book that the girls have put in front of them – a book about ancient and most dangerous spells from the Black family library. Lily was holding her new wand – the ever so powerful wand of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Nervously, Cissy licked her lips. "We are going to try and bring John back," she said.

Both men looked at her, amazed. Sirius was the first one to find his voice again. "By using Dark magic?" he asked incredulously.

"No! Morgaine will summon his spirit – his spirit must still exist somewhere, you know, otherwise he would have been truly dead. She will summon it both due to the fact that she's part Veela – we all saw those ghosts in the mountain, didn't we? – and that she and John share one blood. Then, we'll just reunite his body and spirit with the ancient spell that Lily and I found. All will be fine."

"I don't think so," Sirius said firmly. "Stop it. _Right now_!"

"Sirius, wait for a minute," James interrupted. He wanted to see whether Morgaine could really do such a thing. That might give him idea of what to expect of Malory and Dominic when they grew up. He would have asked Christine, but since they had come back to Grimmauld Place, she had resumed her former cold attitude towards him.

"What? It is very dangerous, what they want to do. And you are ready just to let them go on with it? It's a dark magic, no matter what they call it."

"But we are here, ready to interrupt, should something happen," James pointed out. His new wand suited him almost as well as his former one – to his great astonishment. But he had to rely on his left hand, for his right one was inexplicably weak at the most unexpected moment, had been for years.

Sirius wanted to make another objection, but in fact he was no less curious to see what the girls could achieve. Besides, it would be worth it if they managed to bring John back. Really, what could happen with James and him both here?

Even while he was nodding, a ghostly form appeared.

John looked exactly like what he had been on the day his spirit had been cursed away from his body – was that really what happened to the victims of the Existente Curse? Forever existing like spirits, departed and invisible? John looked like a nineteen-year-old boy. And yet Cissy knew that it was twenty-seven years since he had been born. Did that make him twenty-seven years old? Or just nineteen? Cissy very much hoped the latter, for that would bring him closer to her own age. She was enthralled by the flickers of feeling that sometimes flashed through his seemingly dispassionate blue eyes.

"Morgaine," John said. He very carefully avoided looking at his own body on the bed. "And the two of you are - ?"

He was looking at the two girls.

"This is Lily," Cissy said, a little awkwardly. "And I am Cissy – your sister Arielle's friend."

"Ah yes. I remember you now."

At this notion, Cissy felt ridiculously happy. "We want to help you come back," she said. "Regain possession of your own body."

"No way," John said curtly, obviously ready to hear just that. "It won't work, so don't lose your time and efforts for such a pointless task."

"Don't you want to come back?" Cissy asked, confused.

"Always," John said. "At first, I hoped that they will find a way to help me, but no one could. Honestly, I don't see why you think you can manage. I've tried to get back into my body. I tried it many times. But I couldn't."

"It's different this time," Cissy assured him. "We brought you here, didn't we? We are going to succeed."

She took Lily's hand and the two of them pointed Ravenclaw's wand at the spirit, whispering the ancient incantation that was supposed to bring him back into his body.

John disappeared. Automatically, everyone looked at the body on the bed, but it remained completely stationary.

A strange hiss brought their attention to the fireplace. Morgaine was still in deep trance and right on the spot where her eyes were fixed, emerged a ghostly shadow, followed by two others. Elise and her brothers Axel and Lucien.

"What's going on?" Elise asked, confused.

Sirius made a step toward the fireplace. "It seems that some mistake happened."

James grabbed him by the hand. "Sirius!" he hissed. "Where are you going?"

His friend looked at him, bewildered. He had no idea that he had moved at all.

"All right, let's start it all over again," Elise decided. "What were you trying to achieve?"

"I can explain," Sirius said, and made another step towards the fireplace, as if dragged by an invisible force. Again, James held him.

"Padfoot! What are you _doing_?"

Sirius tried to break his friend's hold. "Don't! I have to – "

"Cissy." Lily's voice was low and frightened. "Cissy, I think something went terribly wrong."

Automatically, they both looked at Morgaine, who was still staring with blank eyes in the flames, right through her mother. John's body was still stationary, without a single tremor passing through it. Sirius was silently struggling with James, trying to get free. The three wraiths were shouting silently, engulfed by some battle of their own.

And then another voice came, full of surprise and normality – the normality that so lacked here, in this room.

"Hey, what's going on? Is this some sort of party and why wasn't I invited?"

Cane burst in the room like a tornado of good mood and vitality. The next moment, he saw the wraiths and his expression froze. He slowly made a step towards Elise, then another one.

In this moment, Sirius' strength seemed to leave him and he stopped fighting James. He was now free of the force that had been pulling, attracting, _summoning_ him.

Elise's face contorted in horror. "No!" she shrieked. "Cane, get out! _Get out of here_!"

Lucien's disfigured face with the running blood expressed a supreme effort. "Leave!" he gasped. "Leave, I cannot hold much longer – "

But Cane was beyond hearing.

He made another unbearably slow step. Another one. And again…

Suddenly realizing for a first time what was going on, Sirius and James bolted across the room, trying to stop him.

And then he _stopped_ being Cane.

The body that fell in the two men's arms bore the wounds of a mortal battle that was not Cane's own: a long slash on the right thing, open muscles all over his body, an arm that was cut almost apart from the torso. Numerous burnings, destroying the Vela handsomeness of his face. A mouth hanging down to one side. His silver hair caught all the light in the room.

"Merlin!" Cissy gasped, cursing herself, having finally realized what she, with her efforts to save John, had done.

Looking at Cane, who wasn't Cane anymore, Sirius finally realized why this magic was called Dark.


	42. The Newcomer

_Again, thanks to everyone who left a review._

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 42

_At the same time…_

How could a man disappear? How could someone as vivid as Cane vanish?

Dark Magic.

Stunned, James and Sirius placed the stranger, who had taken Cane's place, on the floor. His eyes were rolling madly in their orbits and he was desperately trying to communicate something, but he was in too much pain to do so.

"What the hell was that?" Sirius yelled. "Who are you, damn you? And where did Cane go?"

Of course, he knew the answers to these questions, but he was way too terrified to assimilate them.

Lucien Montresorre gave no indication that he heard him, he just kept trashing around in pain, trying to say something through his torn mouth. Nothing that Sirius and James told him seemed to penetrate his mind.

Cissy collected herself and hurriedly knelt next to him, trying to calm him down. The gentle French words seemed to reach him, for a few moments later his movements grew less violent.

"Merlin!" Raymond Lupin burst into the room. His first glance was at his son's body on the bed, and then his eyes widened when he saw the boy on the floor. "What did you _do_?"

He had addressed the question at Sirius and James, but he did not wait for answer; instead, he pushed them aside and knelt next to Lucien's other side, working on the worst of his injuries. "Calm down," he said in his soothing, yet impervious voice. "You are among friends. I am a Healer." He was working on Lucien's arm, reattaching it to his body. "My name is Raymond. I am Sylvie's husband."

Lucien's eyes widened like saucers, then closed, when he finally lost conscience. Raymond Levitated him on the sofa and spared a moment to look at James and Sirius with hard, cold eyes. "How on earth did you bring him back? What did you do?"

"How did you know?" James asked.

"Are you kidding me? The whole house was _reeking_ of Dark magic."

So much for the _un_-Dark spell. Sirius desperately wished he could die right now. Lucien Montresorre, dead from almost thirty years, was back and Cane was no longer there. Disappeared. Vanished. The magic that had been meant to bring John back had somehow gone wrong and the whole thing had ricocheted, backfired on Cane. He had been – what? Consumed? Assimilated? Suppressed? What? – and Lucien had taken his place. In Sirius' presence. Thanks to Sirius' damned curiosity to see what would happen. He himself had barely escaped what had befallen his son. He had started fighting James, walking towards the fireplace. He _would_ have gone there and become the one absorbed.

„_Bon Dieu!_"

Christine stood in the doorway, staring at her brother. She lurched on her feet, looking as if she was going to faint. On his way inside, Kingsley Shacklebolt grabbed her and placed her in a chair. "What happened?" he asked. "Who is he?"

"His name is Lucien Montresorre," Sirius heard his own voice saying, "and he's been dead for thirty years."

"Well," Raymond snapped, "now he's alive and I want him to stay this way, so all of you out! I need space."

They left him to work on the injuries. Michel Montresorre poked his head in for a moment and then drew it back, looking as if he would be sick.

In silent agreement, everyone headed for the kitchen. On their way, they met Linda and Dominic, who were hurrying toward John's room. The old man had felt the Dark Magic, of course, and Linda had seen the commotion. Kingsley motioned toward the kitchen and the newcomers joined them.

"What happened?" Arielle asked from the chair she had been sitting it, again feeling unwell. Sirius looked at her with horror: she was the last person who should know about Cane's disappearance and yet, they could not hide it from her.

"It's Lucien," Michel said, looking at his father. "They brought him back."

Dominic's face lost its colour and he swayed unsteadily, but when Michel tried to support him, he waved his son away with an impatient gesture. "But that's impossible," he said. "He can't be back."

"He is, Father. They somehow brought him back… and there is only one way they could have done so," the younger man finished lamely, his eyes growing wide with realization. "Who is he?" he asked sharply. "Who is the poor guy who carries him?"

"It is Cane," Cissy said, her voice trembling. "It's all my fault."

Arielle stood up so quickly that no one could follow her movement. "What about Cane?" she asked. "Why are you mentioning him? How can he be _carrying_ someone? _Mon Dieu_, Cissy, it isn't funny!"

"That's not a joke, Arielle," Sirius said. "Something bad happened and – it's hard to explain."

The horror in his voice finally convinced her. She slowly sat back in her chair, her every feature betraying – no, not realization, not yet, but growing fear nonetheless.

Seeing that the others were all too shocked by what had happened, James immediately started acting. First, he sent his Patronus to the other members of the Order, communicating that they return immediately. Then, he made Arielle a cup of tea and made her put her feet high. He wanted to make her eat something, but that would be really too much to expect of her in her anxiety.

Lily was wringing her hands, terrified by both the transformation and her own part in it. Dominic sat at the table, his face expressionless like a stone statue. Cissy and Sirius paced the room, not meeting each other's glance, he dark-haired, she as blond as a fairy and yet, they were startlingly similar to each other in their anxiety and guilty conscience: she had been the one with the plan and he had not stopped her, although he knew better. And now they had a man long dead on their arms and Cane nowhere in sight.

Michel and Christine whispered urgently between themselves. James and Linda looked at each other, confirming that they both shared the same suspicion: Christine was having one of her panic attacks. Well, this time she had a reason.

The others returned in short order not long after Arielle had finished her tea: Remus, weary and short of rest, Tonks, vibrant and pink-haired, her stomach bulging her robes, Fred and George Weasley, as always laughing and joking and yet James felt that they took the whole thing just as seriously as the others. Then, Alain and Margo, looking exhausted – by what dark, covered activities, James did not want to know. Sylvie was among the last ones to arrive, just a few moments before her son Arion.

Remus took a look at the room as a whole and his eyes fell on Arielle with great concern. Now, with Tonks here – Tonks, who looked so vivacious and healthy with her pregnancy – Arielle seemed even more fragile, somehow smaller, as if the baby was feeding on her life without it being enough. Remus knew too much about such pregnancies not to worry. He felt chilled at the memory of Elise.

But he did not say anything. Instead, he looked at his friends and making his mind that Sirius was far worse off, went to him. "Hello."

"Hello."

"Are you all right?"

"I think I am. No, in fact I'm not. We were just saying – we were trying to explain that I would have gone there if Cane hadn't come."

Remus raised a hand. "Just one moment, please. I don't know anything. And I'm sure that Arion and Sylvie understand even less. Start from the beginning."

"The beginning was," Cissy said, "the beginning was when I thought I had found a way to bring John back into his body."

Sylvie made a convulsive gesture. Arion's hand covered hers.

"And what was your plan?"

"A combination between Veela magic and blood spells." Cissy was biting her nails, as she always did when she was nervous. "I – I thought that might work. I convinced Lily to help me with Ravenclaw's wand and Morgaine established the contact. But something went wrong. The ghosts appeared and –"

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted her. "_Morgaine established_ – "

Cissy closed her eyes. She did not want the girl to bear the consequences for what had been Cissy's own mistake. "I made her do it. She didn't want to participate. She tried to dissuade me, but I wouldn't listen. She didn't want to."

"That's no excuse," Remus said coldly. "Absolutely no excuse. That might go for Lily, who is young and inexperienced, but Morgaine should have known better. Where is she now?"

"She's still in trance," Cissy admitted. "My mother examined her and she says that Morgaine would come out of it soon. She's all right."

Morgaine certainly _wouldn't_ be all right, after her father had a word with her.

"It's my mistake," Cissy insisted. "I am a grown woman and I should have known that a Dark Magic is a Dark Magic no matter what. I suppose I didn't do it, because – well, because I didn't want it to be so."

Her voice had become almost inaudible.

"Did you fall in love with John Lupin at first sight?" Kingsley asked carefully.

"Yes, I suppose," Cissy admitted. "It doesn't matter now. The whole thing failed, we've got a dead guy on our hands and Cane was caught in the midst of it all."

"Cane?" Remus asked, stunned. Then, more violently. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"They came, the ghosts. I know they were ghosts, because one of them was Mrs Lupin."

"Elise?"

"Yes. There were two men with her. They quarreled, they argued and then – "

"And then Cane entered the room," Sirius said. "If he weren't there, _I_ would have become someone else."

"Why you?" Kingsley asked quietly. Remus looked too shocked to speak.

"He – he was pulling us. No, not us. Me. He didn't want to, I'm sure of it, but it was stronger than him, he could not help himself. He needed to live again. And I had to become him… to go near. I was already going to him, but James stopped me. Then Cane came and walked to the fireplace."

"Cane changed?" Kingsley asked, as calm as ever. "He became someone else?"

Arielle groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her mother quickly went to her.

"He became Lucien." Alain's words weren't question. His face was set in a firm expression, but his hands clutched the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles had gone blue. His eyes were ablaze. "Bendida, have mercy!"

"Reverse it!" Arielle cried. "Reverse it immediately!"

Lucien Montresorre – the _other_ Lucien, the real, living one – oh Merlin, but now the other one was living too, wasn't he? – opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. His father had warned him that if he uttered as much as a word, he'd throw him out.

Alain shook his head. "I'm sorry, Arielle. It doesn't work this way."

"What?" she whispered, fear and anger seething in her voice. "It cannot be so!"

Alain gave her a helpless look and then glared at Cissy, Sirius and James – all three of them were guilty in his book. "And it didn't occur to any of you thinkers that had it been able to do such a thing safely, we would have done it years ago? Elise was still alive when John got cursed! _I _am still alive, as well as my siblings and my mother – a full-bloodied Veela. Didn't it occur to you that we had a reason for _not_ doing it?"

"Is it always like this?" Fred asked. "I mean, someone _changes_?"

Alain released his grip on the table and nodded. "It was done centuries ago. Veelas have been mating with humans since the beginning of time and there are many research-works about the combinations of Veela and wizard magic. It _is_ possible to bring someone, who is not truly dead, only existing, in the world of living, but it is rarely worth it – we lose someone to save someone. Yes, the blood magic works this way – _without_ blood, it won't work _at all_ and _with_ blood, it takes a living person to bring back a living person. I think it's all about balance, actually."

Tonks frowned. "Something isn't quite right," she said. "You say that the person you're trying to save started living again, but as long as we know, John still isn't back into his body. And what was that about balance? If John had come back and Lucien too… at Cane's expense… we would have had two people against one lost."

Lost. Cane. Lost. Horrified, Sirius realized that with each repetition of something like that so casual, he started believing that it was true a little more.

Alain was clearly unwilling to answer Tonks. Realizing that his reluctance might have something to do with Arielle, who looked ready to faint, Kingsley decided to concentrate on another unfitting piece of the puzzle. "You say there were three of them."

"Yes," James said. "Lucien, Elise and their brother – the one who isn't your twin." He looked at Michel.

"Axel."

"Yes, him."

"And yet you say that the only one who tried to… come back… was Lucien?"

"He was starting to possess Sirius. The other two were trying to stop him."

"But why didn't they try something like that themselves?" Kingsley wondered. "Well, I suppose Morgaine was out of reach, since she was the mediator, but Cissy? Lily? You?"

James didn't say anything.

"They couldn't," Dominic Montresorre said hoarsely. His face was terribly pale, the small cut on his cheek almost black but still bleeding. "They would have, if they could. But there was nothing for them there."

"You didn't feel the pull at all?" Kingsley insisted to James.

"Not in the least."

"And yet, there must be something…" Kingsley looked at Alain, his eyes questioning. There would be long time before he's trust the French Ministry's killer. "You immediately supposed that Cane had become Lucien. Your other brother was not even a flying thought in your mind. Why was that?"

"That is no concern of yours." Alain's voice was as cold as the day outside. The fire in the fireplace cracked and the flames rose higher; looking at them, James suddenly remembered Christine's words about her brother being a Firelord. Somehow, Montresorre was the one doing it without even realizing. Margo discreetly touched her lover's hand. Alain startled and looked at the fireplace. The flames cracked and stopped rising.

"I think it is. Everything is everyone's concern, when we have a dead guy walking around and one of our own disappeared."

"Well, _this_ isn't."

"Really?" Kingsley's voice was low, but menacing.

"He's right, Alain," Dominic spoke, and looked at his son sternly. "They have the right to know. And we didn't do anything to be ashamed of."

"It isn't about shame, Father. It's about them sticking their noses where they don't belong."

Dominic looked around and his eyes fell on one person. James. His eyes slowly widened, realizing what the younger man was trying to hide.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"By his photo. As soon as I saw his eyes, I realized."

Dominic frowned. "His eyes? What's wrong with them?"

"There is nothing wrong with them," James answered, looking straight into Dominic's own gray eyes. "But it was impossible. Look at your other children." He himself looked at Alain, Christine, Michel –all incarnations of perfect beauty, with their silver hair and eyes different shades of blue. Everyone in the room did the same. "I have studied Muggle medicine," James said in a low voice, "and I know that it's impossible for two pale-eyed people to have a child with dark eyes."

There was a deafening silence in the room, when the real meaning of James' words started sinking.

"I've always thought there's a lot that we can learn from Muggles," Dominic finally said. "Is it really impossible?"

"Yes. Two dark-eyed people can have a child with blue eyes, but the opposite cannot happen. Never."

Dominic slowly nodded. "I understand," he said. He looked lost in his thoughts. For a few moments, there was absolute silence in the room.

"I shouldn't have… " James started, feeling uncomfortable, but Dominic interrupted him.

"They say I took him from Orion, but I didn't, you know. He left them. Vivienne gave him to me."

Sirius opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Dominic went on. "Yes, there was time, when I was a frequent visitor in this house. There was time, when Orion and I were best friends at Hogwarts – we lived here for a while, so my siblings and I attended Hogwarts, you know. So we were best friends – until we graduated and made a long travel. We ended up in Bulgarian mountains where we met her – Vivienne. I fell for her and she fell for him." For a moment, he remembered the pain, now long gone, that she had never as much as looked at him.

Sirius gaped. "She did _what_?" The idea of a girl actually falling in love with his father seemed even more impossible than the idea of his father falling in love with someone. The man had been so cold and distant. It was impossible for Orion Black to have felt such a thing as love.

Dominic's smile told him that he knew what Sirius was thinking. "He hasn't always been the way you remember him," he said.

"Hasn't he?"

"No."

Sirius wasn't sure, but it really wasn't the time to dwell on this.

"Then one day he suggested that he took her to England as his mistress." His lips curved in a wry smile. "He wanted it all – the respectable pureblood marriage, his place in fashionable circles, _and_ Vivienne. At hearing this, she realized that he considered her a being far below himself. What happened later was an ugly thing. Let's just say that he left in a hurry – alone. After that, Vivienne and I started getting close, until she realized that he had left her with something more than an unpleasant memory."

Vivienne, her slim figure enveloped in looser and looser robes, her face growing rounder, her skin glowing even more. When did he notice? It came upon him one evening, while he was about to drift off to sleep. Then, a few weeks later, Vivienne saying abruptly, "I always knew I'd be one of those women who grew enormous during pregnancy." The first time she had acknowledged her condition. How her growth accelerated. She still had some of her grace left and her arms and legs were as slim as ever, her stomach swelled and distended under whatever loose clothes she was wearing. It looked sick and ugly to him. He was ashamed he felt that way.

"I returned to Paris and took her with me. We lived in a flat I rented." At that time, that caused more than a few curious looks. For a young and wealthy pureblood to support a mistress was not unusual, but actually living full time with her was something almost unheard of. And she a pregnant non-human, even if people thought that the child was his. "Lucien was born in Paris." And he didn't like him. For him, the baby was just a squealing little thing that took too much of Vivienne's love, time and attention. To top it all, he was a sickly baby that was almost constantly on the verge of death. Dominic was not sure he didn't _want_ him dead. When they first placed Lucien in his arms, he reacted with disgust, quite unnatural to a father. He felt guilty for his indifference and tried to compensate it with even more attention and care. And then one day Lucien smiled at him and love came all of a sudden. "Orion came to Paris when he was about a year old. I have heard some things about him, among them that he used all possible means to postpone his marriage, which I suppose shouldn't have surprised me – he was a pureblood through and through, but he was not stupid, far from that. There, he met Vivienne again. I think he finally realized what his life with Walburga would be like." The old Veela Seer, her face lit by the flames, her lips whispering the prophecy and the warning. _Choose wisely, handsome Orion, because you'll live with what you choose…_ "He proposed to Vivienne. He wanted to live with her."

"He didn't!" Sirius was shocked. His ever so calm, so damned frustrating father who lived for dignity and his precious library being ready to throw everything away for a Veela? It seemed impossible.

"He did. But it was too late. She turned him down." _I sent him away. I don't care about his future and I hope we won't talk about his person or mention his name ever again._ "He asked about the child, only once. I told him that Lucien was mine, but he knew I was lying." _Swear it. Swear in his life that he's yours and not mine._ Dominic, opening his mouth to say the words and not being able to do so. Not that he was superstitious, but he couldn't do such a thing. _I won't_. A pause. _Of course you won't._ "Vivienne and I got married shortly afterwards. The next sixteen years were the best in our lives." He fell silent.

"Until Lucien died," Alain said calmly.

"Until Lucien died," his father agreed, and the pain was still there, as fresh as a new. Time could not heal such pain.

A long silence followed. "That's why Lucien chose Sirius and Cane," Kingsley finally said. "The magic was blood magic and he was drawn by the blood that they share – the same as his. That's why James was of no interest to him."

"That's right," Alain said.

"But why did he choose Cane? He had already started possessing Sirius. Why did he leave him and focused on Cane instead?"

Alain shrugged. "I am no specialist in these problems. You should ask Margo."

Everyone looked at her. She explained, "I think that there was a bond between Cane and Lucien. A natural bond that far surpassed the one that blood created between Lucien and Sirius. These spells are a very complex mix of blood and emotional links. I've always thought that Lucien and Cane were quite alike – not only their temper, but their upbringing, the way they thought. Of course, they had different gifts – Lucien, for one, was better at Legilimantics than Cane could ever hope to be, and yet - " She looked down at her hands. "In short, I believe that Lucien felt that with Cane, he had more things in common to cling to. They were raised in the same manner, by the same family…"

"And now?" Sirius asked. "What becomes now? How can we bring Cane back?"

"We can't. At least, I haven't heard of a way to reverse the spell. It's easier just not to do it."

"And when Lucien wakes up?"

"He and Cane will fight for dominance for his… their mind," Margo answered. "Until he goes mad and dies a wretched death, unbecoming either of them." Looking at the fearful faces around, she angrily added, "What did you expect? It's a Dark magic, not a love potion."

Arielle stood up, her hand pressed to her stomach, her face twisted into a mask of agony. "Excuse me," she muttered, "I am not feeling very well."

She bolted out of the room, before she could fall apart in front of everyone. There were dark spots swimming in front of her eyes, Cane's voice in her ears – "We'll make it, Arielle. We'll beat the Big Evil, we'll survive, and we'll live happily ever after – until the next quarrel." – and the sickening thought of him losing his mind, dying wretchedly in madness. How was it possible? It was this morning – only this morning – when everything was all right and life was normal.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same night…_

The nightmares. The visions.

The Dementors with their black hoods, coming closer on the Hogwarts grounds, ready to give him the Kiss that would put an end on everything.

James and Lily, sprawled on the floor of their ruined house, blood trickling down on their faces.

The Dementors, dragging their newest screaming victim inside the cell.

Angela, her feet high on the sofa, her face thin and tormented with the knowledge that she would give birth to a damaged child.

Arielle brushing Cane's hair in the Veela realms during the battle there. The methodical strokes, the glossy strands, the sound of the curses outside. Cane changing into a Weasley twin. The scars on his back.

Snivellus' hateful smirk, his eyes triumphant, his hand still holding the wand that took away Albus' Dumbledore's life.

Julian's dead eyes, staring at something that Sirius cannot see.

Cane changing in front of the fireplace.

"_People have always expected you to be bad and charming and shallow, and you do your best to fulfil their expectations. You sink to their expectations, I would say. I think that most of us are made this way. We are social beings. We live in a social world with other people and so we wish to be as they see us, even if it is losing a part of ourselves." She laughs, lifting her face toward his. Her dark hair glows in the sunlight, her skin shines like a molten gold. He tries to kiss her, but she turns her head aside, so he misses. "What do you think?"_

He woke with a startle, covered in sweat that had soaked the bed linens. Her voice was as clear as a bell in his head. Angela. The witty Miss Know-It-All. He had forgotten how much she loved such flights of thought, how she would philosophize over a glass of wine, how startlingly insightful she was at the oddest times.

"Can't sleep?"

It did not surprise him that James was awake. "No," Sirius answered curtly. He suddenly hated James, hated himself for not stopping the girls. He would have, had he been alone. James would have, too, he was sure of that. It seemed that when they were together, they could not help but be as people have always accepted them – the mischievous duo. And Cane had paid the price.

He suddenly left the room – he felt as if he was suffocating.

Linda was in the living room, sitting in the dark. Sirius immediately supposed why she was here. "Christine having a hard time?"

"Alain is with her. It seems that his presence calms her down."

"I see." Actually, he didn't. It seemed to him that whenever those two were together, it always ended in quarrels and Christine crying and begging for forgiveness for… what? Having left to escape the pain? Choosing the husband that she had? Living her life the way she wanted to? There was something terrible, something desperate in her dependency on her brother.

He sat in a chair. No one spoke, except for Sirius' question, "Has Morgaine awoken?"

"Yes, about an hour ago."

"Good." Sirius was relieved that at least the girl was all right.

The silence went on, but no one felt uncomfortable with it. Finally, Linda stood up and handed him a little pill. "I think it's time for me to look for my bed. I recommend that you take this and do the same. This is a medical advice."

"What's that for?"

"It'll help you fall asleep without dreaming," she replied. Sirius very much doubted that there was a thing that could help him beat the nightmares tonight, but he took it anyway.

"Thank you."

She smiled faintly. "You're welcome."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next morning…_

The mood at the breakfast table was quite muddled. Sirius thought that even Fred and George wouldn't have had the heart to try one of their jokes. No one was hungry and the dishes were going cold, barely touched. Arielle was still in her room and Fleur told them that she won't be able to join them – she was still feeling weak and sick. Tonks was drawing lines though her food with her fork, her hair a gloomy dark green. Remus had scolded Morgaine with harsh words and she was still recovering from both the trance that had turned out more exhausting than she had thought, and the realization of what she had involuntarily caused. Alain looked every year of his age and then some. Christine was nowhere in sight, probably preoccupied with the children. James and Sirius hadn't spoken a word to each other since last night.

"Well," Kingsley finally said, "that's enough. We must start _acting_ at last! We must find a way to bring Cane back and send this other guy to his grave where he belongs!"

"I'd advice you to do it in that exact order, otherwise you won't like the results."

Everyone's head snapped towards the door, where Lucien Montresorre stood – eighteen years old, tall and muscular, with his shining blond hair and perfect face, his mouth curved in irony. There were deep shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted, but he was very much alive. He casually leaned against the doorframe, as if to show his ease with the whole situation; Alain was the only one who realized that his brother was seeking support for his weight. "Lucien," he said.

The boy's eyes flickered to him. There was a pause. Lucien's face turned perplexed. He started to say something, then stopped.

"Alain?" he finally asked.

"Why are you walking around? You should be resting in bed."

There was a sudden smile crossing Lucien's face – a crooked smile that must have broken hearts wherever he went. "I told him you would say that. I told Raymond – that's the guy's name, isn't it? He says he is a Healer – "

"He says? He _is_ a Healer and you should be listening to him, instead of parading around, ready to collapse."

" – and he told me I'd find you here. He didn't warn me about the ghastly portrait in the hallway, though."

"I didn't hear her screaming," Sirius said.

"She didn't." Lucien looked sheepish. "She tried to, but that guy in my head was already getting on my nerves, so I had little tolerance for her. I'll mend her soon, I promise."

"I hope not! What did you do?"

"I, err, I kind of burned her tongue away… Don't worry, it will pass soon. I am not very good with fire," he added apologetically, looking at everyone around.

"So, why didn't you listen to Raymond?" Alain insisted.

"I don't know him," Lucien answered simply.

Alain crossed the room and took his brother's arm, leading him to the nearest seat. Selena made an instinctive movement, as if she wanted to get away from that dangerous proximity.

Lucien did not release his brother's hand. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Grimmauld Place 12, London."

"Am I dead?"

"You aren't any more."

"But – "

"I'll explain."

"Come on then!"

_Yes, I can believe that he is related to Sirius_, James thought.

"What's the last thing that you can remember?"

Lucien frowned. "The battle." He closed his eyes. The others were silent. After a few moments, he went on, "The Death Eaters. Bellatrix Black. Marion giving birth. And how I asked you to – kill me." He looked at Alain, who briefly closed his eyes. "That was many years ago, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"How many years are we talking about?"

"Twenty-seven."

Lucien nodded and a single tear glistened in his eye. "Where are the others? Marion? She did give birth safely, right? Good. Where is Christine? Where are the twins? And how on earth did you bring me back?"

Alain was starting to answer, when Kingsley suddenly spoke, "Someone just tried to take a tour in my head."

"What?" James asked.

"Someone tried to read my thoughts," Kingsley said, emphasizing every word. In their situation, that could mean only one thing. Spying. Someone was trying to give their plans to the enemy! And it was obvious who he was. In this room, there was someone who had had a proven contact with Dark Magic, someone who wasn't human or Veela anymore, someone creating his life on the ruins of another's one.

"Lucien." Kingsley said evenly, "I believe your cousin Margo told us you were quite good at Legilimantics?"

The boy's face did not change. "Did she, now?" he asked calmly, but there was something in his voice that told the others they were not dealing with an ordinary teenager, but with a renown dueling champion. "And who might you be?"

"My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"I suppose you already know mine." The cold dark eyes bore into the Auror's. "I am quite good at it. I am even an excellent Legilimant. But it wasn't me cruising in your head, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Believe me, if it had been me, you wouldn't have felt it."

It was strange, but no one thought of doubting Lucien's words. His casual self-confidence made the others believing him, too. He, however, made a mistake by standing up to emphasize his words – he was still suffering the combined effects of the restoration magic and the healing, so he swayed and was on his way to fall in Selena's lap, had Alain not grabbed his hand to steady him.

Lucien sharply jerked away. "My hands, you beast! Don't touch my hands!"

Alain frowned. "What happened?" he asked. Very gently, he lifted his brother's hands to examine them. The others, too, looked curiously at them. His fingers were enormous, swollen, red, and crooked. Inflamed.

Lucien was examining his own hands with some hostility. He's never felt his body like an enemy before – it had always been obliging, doing exactly what he told it to do, but now it seemed determined to develop a will of its own, it made him be careful about it, keep it from pain, it made him _serve_ it - he, who had never known serving to parents, siblings, rules, or fatigue! But then, it was not his own body, was it? Not exactly.

"How big was this guy anyway – as big as an elephant?"

"Not at all," Alain answered.

"Not at all, you say. Are you serious? With hands like that?"

"It's a disease," Arion explained. "Arthritis. He contracts it from time to time. It swells his joints and fingers and makes them hurt all the time."

Lucien frowned. The concept of hurting all the time was completely foreign to him and he did not like it one bit. "How on earth did he bring himself in such a state?"

"It was a cold," Arion said and at the other's blank stare, he helpfully explained, "Of course, that was only the stimulus. When he was five, he had an unusually harsh cold. No one paid any attention to him, no one took him to the hospital, so the thing developed into an infection and thereafter he found himself diagnosed with arthritis. Quite unpleasant. Well, we hope that with his treatment, he won't come to permanently limited abilities."

"Well, since he is no longer here, I am, and since I'll go mad before the disease had had the time to fully develop, I doubt it will come to this." Lucien scowled again. "Damn it, how could he _live_ with that?"

"He has no other choice," Arion said dryly.

"What kind of parents would let him come to this?"

"He was living in an orphanage at that time. His mother was dead and his father was… elsewhere, lamenting over things that were more important."

Arion was not looking at Lucien when he said this. Instead, he was staring straight at Sirius, his eyes that were so much like Remus' cold and full of hostility that Sirius had never seen Remus directing at anyone except for Peter that night in the Shrieking Shack. Arion was not his friend – he was Cane's friend and he was blaming Sirius for what had happened to Cane – for not stopping the girls. His neutral altitude had changed against Sirius and he was deliberately trying to hurt him.

And damn it, that worked.

"But you are wrong," Arion went on, concentrated on Lucien again. "Because we'll bring him back. There is a way and I intend to find it!"

His eyes were glistening like stones, but it was not the cold accusation that had been aimed at Sirius – it was the resolved hardness of a young man ready to turn the world upside down to get what he wanted.

Lucien let his hands drop under the table, so everyone would stop staring at them. "You do realize that you are talking about my death, don't you?"

Arion shrugged. "I am sorry," he said. "But you don't belong here. He does. You are already dead and I do regret that you must do so _again_, but we can't have you and Cane here at the same time. It is just not possible."

Lucien stared at him and then suddenly laughed apprehensively. "You've got quite the nerve, saying it to my face. I appreciate your honesty. And what do you propose?"

"I have no idea… yet."

Lucien slowly stood up again, the colour draining from his face. He lifted his head and sniffed several times, testing the air. Everyone stared at him. _What's going on __**now**_, a few people thought. Was he becoming mad already? So quickly?

His eyes slowly went around the room, looking at something, looking _for_ something. He seemed to have found it, because his eyes stayed fixated at the end of the table, where James and Morgaine sat. His entire demeanor changed. His pupils turned into thin lines, every muscle in his body vibrating, but not with fear – it was rather the vibration of a beast before attacking. A low growl escaped his throat.

"Lucien!" his father reprimanded sharply, having just entered and estimated the situation.

Lucien growled at him, his body slightly shortening, his spine bending.

"Lucien!" Christine cried horrified from the door. "Lucien, stop!"

"Lucien," Sylvie added her plea and entered the room. "What are you doing?"

Alain and Dominic quickly stood shoulder to shoulder in front of Lucien to face the threat. Neither of them drew his wand out, though.

"Lucien." Dominic's voice was calm, he was trying to reach his son's mind and calm him down.

Trying.

Seams burst. Material cracked ripped. Fur burst across skin and the giant white dog was on four feet on the floor, growling and trying to push through Dominic and Alain to reach the ones they shielded.

Dominic held out a hand to calm him down and the dog fiercely drew his paw upon it. Deep gashes started bleeding immediately, colouring the silky white fur with red stains.

"What the hell is he trying to do?" Sylvie demanded, pointing her wand at the animal just by instinct, although she knew she would never risk harming Lucien – or Cane inside him.

The dog drew back and sat on his haunches, his tail thumping in agitation, his eyes never leaving Alain and Dominic who blocked his path to his goal. It was obvious that he was trying to think of a way to go past them without harming them further.

"Everyone, get out!" Christine warned sharply. "He is about to attack."

Despite her words, she did not leave. Instead, she stepped next to her father, ready to change herself if needed to restrain her brother.

"Well, he hasn't done this since he was in his third year and that classmate of his had really pissed the hell out of him," she said. "What the hell, Father?"

"Shut up, Christine!" Dominic snapped. "Now it isn't the time for being smart. He's very dangerous."

"Do you think so? You're bleeding all over the floor."

"What triggered this?" Remus asked calmly.

The fog exploded into action and made a giant leap, hitting Alain squarely in the chest. The weight of the furry body and the suddenness of the attack pushed him over backward. Without losing time, the dog leaped over him and went straight for James' throat. He pushed Morgaine more securely behind him and pointed his wand at the snarling dog.

"No!" Sirius yelled. "You hurt him, you hurt Cane!"

He didn't know where the words came from, he only knew they were true. What happened to Lucien happened to Cane also.

James stopped stricken and the dog's teeth sank deeply into his wand hand, making it impossible for him to defend himself with magic, then went for his throat again and when James instinctively raised his hands upwards, Lucien suddenly switched tactics and knocked him off, pushing off his hind legs to leap at Morgaine. He struck deep and fast, going in for the kill.

Two pairs of strong arms wound around his neck and held him off. Lucien stared right into Sirius' eyes and moved to free himself, but Sirius and Remus did not let go.

"Enough!" Alain's voice shook the room. He reached past Sirius and grabbed his brother's head to look him in the eye. "I said, enough! If you persist in this folly, I will kill you immediately. I know you are human enough to understand me. Cool off and regain control _now_!"

He didn't spare the others a look, he simply picked up the dog and flung it toward the wall. Lucien landed heavily against it, slid down and for a moment, lay motionless. Then, his sides started heaving, he turned his head around and snarled.

Alain made a step toward him. "Do not make me tell you again. I love you and you know that very well, but senseless attacks are not to be tolerated. You know me well enough to know that I speak the truth."

The dog stared defiantly into his eyes and then suddenly it changed back into a disheveled, bruised and quite naked Lucien. Dominic bent over to tend for him and Christine hurried outside to find some clothes.

"Why did he do it?" Morgaine asked, trembling. "I swear he was coming for me, not James. Dad, I am certain he tried to kill me. James moved so fast, stepping in front of me that I didn't see him and I don't think he did, either."

Remus was checking on her, making sure that she had no wounds. "I know, I know, I saw him too… But you are fine. You are, right?"

"I think so."

Kingsley joined Remus in making sure that Morgaine was untouched. "It seems that you don't have the slightest scratch," he announced and looked at her attacker, who was just being helped back to his feet. "What just happened?"

"I have no idea."

The noise had driven everyone to the kitchen. Raymond healed James' wound with a single wave of his wand. Dominic's persisted, though. Then, Raymond healed Lucien who was staring hatefully at Morgaine and guiltily at his father.

"You never do anything without a reason," Dominic said to his son. "What I want is to find out what triggered the dog into attacking."

"Is it me?" James asked. The ferocity of the attack reminded him of the day when Elise Montresorre, Lucien's sister, had tried to kill him by clawing his eyes away, by changing into a wolf, a tiger, a snake, a cat – everything that would give her the opportunity to sneak her way past the Aurors who were guarding her and get to him, no matter what wounds and bruises she might acquire in the process or what would happen to her if she _had_ managed to commit a murder in the headquarters of the Order. "Because of what happened to your brothers?"

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "_What_ happened to my brothers?" he asked sharply.

"You fool!" Alain hissed at James. "Now isn't the time, Lucien," he said firmly. "I'll tell you all about that, but I must know why you committed the attack in the first place."

Lucien slowly nodded. "Yes, I imagine it is," he said. "It isn't you," he told James. "It's _her_."

He nodded towards Morgaine. "She isn't what you think she is."

"What do you mean?" Remus' voice was calm, but there was an underlying threatening note in it. His hand gripped his wand. Then, he thought about Cane and made himself release it.

"She's the one who tried to read your thoughts, Auror," Lucien turned to Kingsley.

"I didn't tell you I was an Auror," Kingsley said.

"You really didn't, Auror Shacklebolt," the boy agreed.

Kingsley held his breath. He hadn't felt even the slightest stir of Lucien's probing. "You must be very good at it," he said.

"The Black family has always been adept in Mind Arts," Sirius supplied. He knew that this was hardly the point, but he was ready to say anything that would prolong the exchange, to postpone what would come next, for he felt in his bones that it would be horrifying –

Lucien shrank him with a look, but did not fall in his trap, losing time in objecting that he did not consider himself a Black.

"She is the one who tries to provide the Death Eaters with information about everything your precious Order does. She is the one who works for them. The stench is all over her."

Sirius and James shared a look, remembering what Christine had told them in the cave – that her brother had a keen sense of evil. Now they realized that she had meant it literally. He could smell evil – and he was smelling it on Morgaine! Little Morgaine, who stared at him in shock, her jaw trembling, but her eyes defiant.

Lucien raised his chin, suddenly looking regal. "I am sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong. I should have controlled the dog better, but it was such a shock… I haven't smelled such a stench since Bellatrix Black stepped in Beauxbatons."

Alain was shaking his head. "Lucien, you are out of your mind," he said. "In this family, Morgaine is the least likely person to succumb to the Dark Side. She's Elise's daughter, for Merlin's sake!"

"Well, then it seems that Elise didn't do a very good job at bringing her up!" Lucien snapped. "Why on earth did you stop me? Get rid of her, Alain! She's evil itself. She's a monster!"

"You're going too far," Remus intervened icily. "Explain yourself or I will kill you and the fact that Cane is inside you won't stop me"

"You are mad," Morgaine said, looking at Lucien eye to eye. "I, a Death Eater? You're out of your wits."

Despite her defiant words, it was obvious that she barely kept herself from crying.

"Oh don't lose your theatrics on me!" Lucien snarled. "Little Miss Innocence, you may delude your entire family, but I can't be deceived so easily – "

"Lucien!" his father snapped. "You went too far!"

"_I_ went too far? She's the one who's betraying you and I'm the one who went too far? I cannot believe it!"

"I am not betraying anyone!" Morgaine cried.

Lucien glared at her and she glared back. For several minutes, it looked like they were testing their abilities to make the other one blink, and then, suddenly, it all ended.

Lucien's hand stretched out and gently touched Morgaine's scarred cheek. "You really don't know, do you?" he asked softly, contritely.

She still looked defiant. "What I know is that you're mad and that I'm not a traitor," she said.

Lucien sighed and stroked her cheek again. "Morgaine," he said gently, "you are."

24


	43. A Traitor in Their Midst

_Disclaimer: Do you think I own HP? Well, I don't._

**Thanks to everyone who left a review for this story. I am sorry for not having updated for so long... too busy, too tired, such things.**

Chapter 43

_An hour later…_

When Raymond entered the kitchen, everyone looked at him. He could only guess how grim he looked.

"It's true," he said without introductions. "I took blood samples. Morgaine's blood is totally contaminated. It – it is, in fact, dark red, almost black. She must have something infused in her blood stream." He took a chair and accepted the cup of steaming coffee that Selena put in front of him. "You were right about her, Lucien. It was she who tried to read Kingsley's thoughts."

"Did she tell you why?" Lucien asked calmly.

"She denies that she did it intending to pass information to anyone and I believe her. She says that the idea just seemed amusing to her, that she did it for fun."

"Great fun, no doubt," Kingsley said angrily. "Messing around with other people's heads – "

"I didn't say I agreed with her," Raymond replied. "It seems that my niece has recently started finding new sources of amusement." He looked at Julian and Anath. "Has she complained of headaches for the last few months?"

Anath instinctively looked at Julian, who turned his head in her direction. The two pairs of dark eyes, one shining with alarm, the other blind and unfocused, met. It was almost as if they exchanged a real look. "Almost the whole time," the boy replied.

Raymond nodded. "I thought so. She looks emaciated and exhausted, too." He had thought it was still due to the stress that she had been put through. Now, he realized his mistake.

"What are you thinking of?" Remus asked. "What are you trying not to say? Tell me, damn it!"

"I should have thought of this possibility as soon as James took her back to us." But he hadn't. For all these years as a Healer, he had known that one day, he would make a mistake. That one day one of his patients would suffer the consequences for a wrong decision on his part. He had feared it, and rightly so. It had happened once, nine years ago. _And now it's happened again._ But this time, it was with someone he loved, someone who he would give his life to protect. He didn't dare look Remus in the eye. Instead, he tried to remember some of his conversations with his late wife. "Pamela and I talked about such cases. She told me that she had had a few patients whose cases resembled Morgaine's. The Death Eaters did something to her – something _physical_ that changed her _emotionally_."

"Oh, the poor child!" Molly Weasley cried. Every child in distress could easily win her sympathy, even the ones guilty of betrayal – that was just how her mind worked.

Raymond looked at his son. "Arion, you were imprisoned there with her. Can you remember something that might help us?"

Arion thought for a few moments, but finally shook his head. "Nothing specific," he said. "They did things to her all the time. Go on, what did Pam say?"

"That some people – obviously really talented – can work curses that influence the other people's behavior. They inflict them through the body of the victim and they are very hard for specialists like Pam to recognize, because they can afflict different organs. In Morgaine's case, the curse spread through her blood system. I should have checked that possibility as soon as she was back to us, but we were busy trying to save her life and then, it was not as if I had had such a case in my practice. It's the sort of things Healers just hear about – not too often." He realized that he was trying to find excuses for a lapse that was simply inexcusable, and shut his mouth.

"Your conclusion corresponds to mine," Remus said grimly, having examined his daughter himself before his brother did. "From the way she describes her state for the last months, it seemed like compulsion, but it wasn't the _Imperius_." That had been his first thought and first examination. He silently cursed himself for being too busy with the Order, with Tonks, with his fears for the baby and not paying enough attention to Morgaine before her leaving for school.

"No, it was not compulsion," Raymond said. "What you must realize, Remus, is that this blood spell didn't force her to do anything that she didn't want to. Morgaine is a fast learner, she's smart and inquisitive. Just look at what happened yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"She agreed to help the other girls. Remus, all her life you've taught her that anything even remotely related to Dark Arts should be avoided and she's always minded that. Yet, she agreed to help Cissy and Lily. And while she was still at Beauxbatons, she read other people's minds, she tried some things that were not tolerated by the school's policy – oh, nothing that bad, just some mischief," he added, seeing how Remus paled even more. "I think that whoever made the spell, put a part of his own evil in it and now this evil has crept into Morgaine. Her nervousness, her headaches, her bitchiness – I suppose she behaved like a real meanie?" he asked Anath and she nodded.

"She was nasty almost to everyone, sulky and angry," Julian said. He should have suspected that something was out of order, but he had been too busy being sulky and angry himself.

Raymond nodded. "Yes, that's one of the symptoms," he said.

"Did she have gaps in her memory?" Fred intervened and when Raymond gave him an odd look, he shrugged apologetically. "When You-Know-Who possessed Ginny, she had whole hours missing," he added, making his mother wince with the memory.

"But Morgaine is not being possessed," Raymond said. "That makes the whole difference. Whatever the infection it, it is _inside _her. It's a part of her, _that's_ the problem. Julian and Anath make my point by describing her physical symptoms – they are typical for someone who is in inner struggle. These last months must have been awful to her," he said softly. "She had no idea what was going on, her health was failing. The evil within her swelled and dwindled in turns while she fought it, fought what was in her heart and blood, but she's on her way to lose the battle." He rubbed his forehead, feeling that his head would explode any minute now. "Whoever made the spell must have been excellent at it," he added. "He must know much about people, he must know much about Morgaine, to act this exact way. He didn't force her to do anything – he just used her own hidden desires and her natural curiosity."

Looking at the confused faces around him, he sighed and started again to explain what had happened and this time, they understood what he meant. Everyone in this room had had at least one moment when he had wished to do magic that was not exactly light, and good, and so on. Turning someone into a frog, feeding a rival to a hippogriff, something like that. But they hadn't done it. Their will wouldn't bend to their desire. And that was what had happened to Morgaine. The curse inflicted upon her had not made her want something that she wouldn't have wanted otherwise, it had been more like bending her normal and natural inhibitions to her wishes. She had wanted to bring John back, so she had agreed to act along with Cecilia and Lily. She had been curious what Kingsley was thinking, so she had just tried to read his mind, why not? Thank Merlin that he had been experienced enough to feel her intrusion, otherwise she might have gotten the Order in lots of trouble, because she was unable to stop herself – she didn't feel that she _should_ stop. It wasn't a compulsion – it wouldn't have succeeded, if it were. It would have weakened over time. Instead, it had just got stronger and Raymond admitted that he had no idea how to get her rid of it.

"And while she was in this mischievous mood of hers, did she think it funny to transmit the information she acquired to other people? Death Eaters?" Kingley's voice was heavy with angry irony. He was not prone to forgiving her intrusion in his head, even if she had not been a mistress of herself.

"No," Lucien answered instead of Raymond. Everyone looked at him and Sirius thought it was strange how quickly they seemed to have forgotten that Lucien was created by Dark magic, literally, how willing they all were to take his word about a girl possessed, or whatever she was, by the Dark side. "I dug deeply into her head and didn't find anything suspicious. She didn't communicate with anyone, didn't try to tell them what she had learned. She didn't know. She just found it… amusing. But whatever she did, she didn't do it intentionally."

"That sounds like great comfort to me," Sirius said. For some reason, this kid was definitely giving him the creeps. The memory of Cane turning into this pale blond thing would not leave his mind. To make it worse, Lucien's gestures and manners were dreadfully close to these of Sirius himself and the fact that Lucien's inner animal was … Padfoot, only white, did not help either. It was just sinister.

"I didn't mean to be comforting," Lucien snapped. Like it or not, this Sirius Black made him crack. He could only assume that this mixture of the remnants of deep distrust, grudging love and sometimes, anger came from the guy whose body he occupied – he didn't know Black well enough to have an opinion for him, let alone feelings. "If you think with your head, you will see what I mean. Why would the Death Eaters bother to corrupt her if they couldn't get information about what's going on? She didn't give them anything consciously, so I suppose they have another means of penetrating her mind – "

"Legilimantics from distance?" Remus frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Neither have I," Kingsley agreed, "but there must be something in that. Lucien is right." He hesitated. "And if so, how can we be sure that they don't know everything _she_ does? We cannot afford to have a girl who is a potential danger in the Order headquarters."

Remus stiffened. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.

"She must leave, Remus. There are other places where she can stay, safeguarded and so on – "

"No other place is safer than this house."

"Yes, but we can't risk – "

"Let's get this straight," Remus said. "You suggest that I kick my daughter out?"

"No," Kingsley answered calmly, "I'm just saying that we cannot let her involuntarily betray us."

"If she leaves, she'll be in even greater danger. She will be more vulnerable than ever."

Kinglsey stood his ground. He hated confronting Remus and he hated to do that to a girl who was basically innocent of crimes and betrayal, but the danger of Death Eaters penetrating the house again could not be overlooked. "I am sorry, but that's what I think. If they really have access to her mind and that helps them surprise us, that won't be good for her either. I really think you should find another place for her, Remus."

_That sounds all reasonable and practical_, James thought. _Only, it is like what, placing Morgaine in even greater danger? Yet, can we risk everything for her? What would have Dumbledore said? _The answer was obvious. _Dumbledore would have known what was on the stake._

"Remus, maybe Kingsley does have a point. We should think about the Order and what we are trying to achieve here – " James started at the same moment when Sirius said, "No way, Kingsley! She's staying."

Well, Sirius' reaction shouldn't have surprised James. Padfoot had always been like this, spontaneous, given to his feelings and it was obvious that Morgaine mattered a great deal to him. For a moment, James felt a twinge of irritation – he had seen such fierce protectiveness in Sirius' behavior only once, many years ago, when Voldemort had been after Harry. Now the Dark Lord wasn't focused on Morgaine the same way. He wasn't threatening her so why couldn't Sirius be reasonable about that? He knew that Remus would be angry for a while, but that finally, he would understand. _He has to. It isn't anything personal. It's all for the greater good._

James felt a strange and distant look shooting at him. Only once before had he witnessed the same blaze in Remus' eyes. It had happened after the Shrieking Shack accident, the first time Remus had met Sirius after his convalescence in the infirmary. Now the cold glitter was back, but only for a moment, before disappearing; Remus had regained his famous self-control. He gave the Auror a very pointed glance. "We have called a specialist in blood curses," he said, "for helping us with bringing Cane back."

"Rhoslyn Lasall, I assume?" Kingsley asked, making James' head turn sharply.

"You seem quite informed," Remus remarked. "Yes, Rhoslyn Montresorre."

"I like being informed," Kingsley said lightly. In fact, he had run a quick inquiry into everything he could find about Alain Montresorre and Margo Saint Claire. It was always good to know as much as you know about murderers, even if they worked on your side. During that investigation, strange things had surfaced and not all of them had exactly made him trust Montresorre. He seemed to be the tempered, violent type, with deadly aim, longtime grudges and not too bothered by scruples. After his devastated sister, Christine Lasall, had left the magical hospital and cut all her ties with the magical world, the French Ministry more by chance than abilities had come across her twin children, Rhoslyn and Etienne, who at that point had been considered dead, and they had been placed under the care of their uncle. A few years ago, Etienne Lasall and Margo's daughter, Vanessa Berge, had all but disappeared from the face of the earth and the rumours linked them to the Dark side. Rhoslyn Lasall – Rhoslyn Montresorre, as her married name was, for she was married to her cousin Sebastien – was considered a leading specialist in ancient curses who had worked in Spain, Egypt, China and currently, in South America, but given her background, Kingsley was not overfull with confidence for her loyalties, either. Elise Montresorre – the mother of the girl who was now endangering them all – had tried to kill James and Lily for apparently no reason at all. No offence to Remus, but he could have chosen his in-laws far better. Even so, Kingsley felt slightly guilty towards Sylvie, Margo's sister: she had been his mentor when he was a young trainee on exchange programme in France and he did not like making inquiries on her sister behind her back. It felt like a betrayal. _It's war_, he reminded himself.

"Yes, we called Rhoslyn," Remus said again, "and I'm sure she'll be here as soon as she can. We're going to use her help for Morgaine, too."

"And until then?" the Auror insisted. "We're going to have in the headquarters a girl who can become an instrument in ambush or Merlin knows what?"

"Yes."

Everyone looked at the door, where Arielle stood. No one had noticed Raymond slipping away to bring along his daughter. Arielle's skin looked pale and unhealthy, her hands twitched convulsively, but her expression was determined.

"Yes," she said again. "Morgaine is staying. If you or anyone else feels that it isn't safe for the Order headquarter to be in the same house as her, the Order may well leave."

Kingsley stared at her – as well as most of the others. The girl really believed what she said. "And since when it's up to you decide where the Order headquarters is to be seated?" James asked. "As long as I know, Sirius donated this house – "

"This house is not Sirius'," she interrupted. "It's Cane's. It was left to him by his grandfather in a will dated back in 1981. And a few weeks ago, Cane wrote a document stating that in case of his death or inability, I am to do whatever I want with everything he has. The Order is staying here because I am letting it stay. Whenever I decide, the Order will leave."

Sirius shook his head. "It's impossible," he said. "Why would my father… He hated me."

"_You_ hated him," Raymond intervened. "That isn't the same thing."

Sirius shot him a bewildered glance. "You seem to know an awful lot about him."

Raymond shrugged. "For a few years, he was my patient when I still lived in England."

"You were his Healer?" Sirius asked stupidly. Of course, if his father had been Raymond's patient, Raymond would have been his Healer, but it was so hard to believe that Orion Black would have trusted his life to someone with Raymond's background.

"Why not? Because he was rich enough and he could afford a pureblooded Healer?"

"I didn't mean that."

"Anyway," Raymond went on, "we talked once in a while. I remember him telling me that you were so set up on becoming a hero for the Potters that you forgot to be a human. He was quite fond of Cane and his mother and I suppose he just wanted to make sure that they would be provided for no matter what, because you had already made clear which your priorities were… not them."

"The house recognized me as its new master," Sirius said. "When I first came here, it opened for me."

"When you first came here," Remus reminded him, "Cane was with you."

It was true. If Moony said it, it had to be true. Suddenly, Sirius felt angry and hurt. How could his friend leave him believing something that was a lie? And why Cane hadn't said anything?

"But he never – "

"Sirius," Remus said, "Cane hates this house. He never gave a damn about it and he wanted it to be of use for the Order. He never wanted to _live_ in it. And later, he just didn't want to think about it, because that would make him think about your will and that in turn would make him angry, and basically be of no use at all. But the house is Cane's. And I have no doubt that he has arranged for it to pass to Arielle, should something happen to him."

Of course Cane would have. From day one, he had made it perfectly clear that Arielle was his top priority. She came before anything else and anyone else. Sirius could only wish – belatedly – that he had had such unwavering loyalty for the boy's mother when it had mattered most.

At once, everyone felt the tension that was gathering in the kitchen. If they stayed longer, they would only end up arguing further without finding any solution. Fred and George muttered something about their joke shop, Kingsley decided to cut short his day off with the Muggle Prime Minister, and Mrs Weasley 'remembered' that she and Arthur needed to get some task for Aunt Muriel done, to return her kindness to take them in.

"You go to your parents," Remus turned to Tonks. "All this agitation cannot be good for the baby. Go and have a rest."

She seemed unwilling to leave him. "But you will come later, won't you?"

"Sure," he promised and led her to the front door before she could change her decision.

Bill left, but Fleur stayed with Arielle. Since Cane's absorption, she and Arion had barely left her side, dividing their time between Charles' sickroom and Arielle's bedroom, so they both wouldn't be left alone. James and Sirius were on their way to the yard, when they met Remus on his way back. The three of them stopped.

"Remus – " James started. He wanted to come clean with his friend as soon as possible. He needed for Remus to understand that it was not uncaring on his part. It was just ranking things in importance. And it wasn't as if he had suggested that they threw Morgaine to the wolves. They would have given her the best protection and everything to make sure she would be all right. "Can we talk?"

"I don't think so," Remus replied, as polite as ever, and simply walked away, leaving James to stare at him, the words caught in his throat.

"I wish he could understand," James said slowly.

"You can wish all you want." Sirius' voice was surprisingly level. His eyes had narrowed into slits. "I know he's forgiving and understanding, but even he has his limits. For Merlin's sake, James, you all but downright propose that we threw his daughter to the wolves just to be sure that nothing endangers us! Do you think he'll be okay with that?" He paused. "Do you think your wife will be?"

"Do not bring Christine in this!" James warned, voice rising.

"She's Morgaine's aunt, her mother's sister." Sirius reminded him. "And I don't think she'll be exactly thrilled with your view on the subject."

James didn't want to think about Christine. He would cross that bridge later. Now, he wanted to focus in Remus. "I want him to understand," he said again.

"Really?" Sirius' anger finally burst out, his concern for Morgaine mixed with the bitter disappointment that James was able to do such a thing to a friend like Moony, to risk Remus' daughter's life for a greater goal. "Then you'd better be _very_ persuasive, to make him understand, because I sure as hell don't!"

_Three days later…_

"Come on, kids, it's time for bed," Christine said. Her five-year-old daughter immediately stood up, but Dominic, a year younger, was not so willing.

"Can I stay for five minutes yet?" he asked in a sweet voice, the picture of innocence. He only needed a little spell to make his silvery hair stand around his head like a halo, and he'd be an angel in looks. Oh but he was a devil and Sirius knew it.

"No."

"Only five?"

"No."

Young as Dominic was, he knew when his mother's 'no' meant that she could be convinced and when it was a square refusal. "Can Pad Foot put me to bed?" he asked.

"Yes!" Malory chimed in, excited. Both kids were fascinated with the big black dog and now she looked expectantly at Sirius. She might not be able to connect his human persona to his dog one, but she knew that he was the one who made the dog come.

Sirius laughed. "May he?" he asked and looked at Christine.

For a moment, the briefest smile crossed her lips – she had gotten to know him well enough to know that he would enjoy the play as much as the children would. "Padfoot can come for a minute," she allowed. "But no putting them to bed." If he did, she would never be able to talk the kids into going to bed without him again.

Sirius nodded solemnly and laid his hand over his heart, as if taking a vow. Then, he changed and the kids attacked him with joyful cries.

Lucien Montresorre – the renewed one – who was sitting quietly in the far end of the room, hissed a low breath.

Linda slowly shook her head, smiling. "How good it is for them to have a friend their own mental age," she commented and the dog gave her an indignant look. To calm him down, she patted his head and he immediately licked her fingers. For some reason, he thought that it made him sweet and that Linda will be tempted into liking him. His attraction to her had not lessened with time, but there was just too much happening for him to concentrate on her. For the last few days, since Cane had been absorbed, Sirius had started having dreams about Angela, about her accusing eyes and her silent question how he could have let this happen to their son. Linda had been pushed in the periphery of his mind, but now, everyone in the room seemed relaxed – something that had not happened in quite a while – and his grief and guilt had temporarily faded.

Linda made a face. "Huh!" she said. "Puppy slobber!"

And she dried her fingers in Padfoot's fur. Lily laughed, proud of her mum getting used to magic so quickly.

"Okay," Christine announced, "time for bed."

The kids made noises of disappointment, but no one protested. Sirius changed back, while Christine was leading the little ones to the door.

"Will you tell me a story, Mummy?" Malory asked just when her father entered the room from the second door. The children did not see him.

"Maybe. What story do you want? About Merlin and the Lady of the Lake?"

But Malory shook her head. "No, Mummy! Tell me about the boy who tried to rob your Uncle Robert, about the Frenchman who was best friends with Uncle Alain, about the Frenchman whom you loved as a girl but who died and you never saw him again."

Christine felt her blood rushing up to her head, along with her surprise: she had never talked to her children about her first husband. "There is nothing so much to tell you about," she answered. She felt James' look on her, but she refused to acknowledge his presence.

"There is, there is!" Malory insisted. "I know that his name was Henri and that he had the most beautiful voice ever, and that he decided to marry you when he was eleven, and – "

"Malory," Christine interrupted, "how do you know all this?"

The little girl looked proud of herself. "Uncle Michel told me. He also told me that – "

What else Michel Montresorre had told her remained unknown, because her mother ushered her out. James did not mind – he was not particularly keen on finding out the details about Christine's love story with her first husband. Still, he was keen even less on the idea of this story being sold off to his children like a fairytale.

The moment they left, Lucien gave Sirius a stern look. "Get rid of the dog," he said.

Sirius gaped at him. "What?"

"The dog is mine," Lucien said, rather angrily. "You must find another Animagus form for yourself. _This one belongs to me._"

Sirius stared, as if to find whether the boy was being serious or not. Lucien looked deadly serious. "You know, it isn't up to me," Sirius said reasonably. "It isn't as if I chose my Animagus form."

"I don't care," Lucien snapped irritably. "You'll have to find something new, because _I am the dog_. I was there first," he added, as if that settled the matter.

James laughed.

"Well, it isn't as if we are exactly similar," Sirius said, fighting his own smile at Lucien's impulsiveness and wounded pride. "You are a white dog and I am a black one."

"Yes, and we are exactly similar in everything else. I won't have it." Lucien's wand – Cane's wand – was already at ready in his hand.

"Calm down, child," Sirius said, still pulling a valiant effort to stay collected.

"I am not a child!"

"Of course you are still a child, Lucien." Sirius could not keep his smile any longer. A dueling champion Lucien might be, but he was still a nineteen-year-old boy, with all vanity and pettiness of this age. "Only children take offense at something like this. I didn't do anything to you."

Lucien frowned angrily at the cheerful tone and then laughed, with angry honesty, at the very instinct that showed him still a child. "All right, I give up!"

The door opened and Remus entered the room, still clad in his coat, his hair mused by the wind outside. "Hello everybody," he said. Surprisingly, Tonks was not with him. "She's with her parents," Remus explained, getting the meaning of their looks. "James, Linda, are you sure that Greyback was trying to kill Morgaine when he found her?" he asked without losing time.

That was the question that put all their theories to a test: why would the Death Eaters make the effort to turn Morgaine if they intended to kill her anyway?

Both Linda and James kept silent, thinking about the eventful night when James had gotten his memory back.

"Yes," James finally said. "I am positive."

"But why would they do this?" Lucien burst out. "That makes no sense!"

In the long silence that followed, Christine's voice came from the room above them, loud and ironic, the French words too quick for them to follow. She hadn't finished yet, when Alain's voice cut in, with no less irony than hers. By the way, his was angrier.

"Looks like the kids fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow," Linda commented affectionately: the constant fights between Christine and her brother had ceased to impress her. After all, Alain was always there, when Christine had one of her attacks, so it was nobody's business that they argued a lot.

Everything seemed pretty normal.

Seemed.

"How is Morgaine?" Lily asked, her eyes full with a mix of concern and curiosity. Everybody in the house had come to know what magic had been done to Morgaine, but she was avoiding everyone, so no one could say how she really was.

"Quite depressed," Remus answered. "She wants to leave, so she wouldn't be a danger to us all."

At saying this, he looked at James, as if daring him to say that the girl's wish was good and right.

James didn't. Oh, he still thought that Morgaine should leave, for everyone's sake, but since the decision had already been made, he didn't want to push it further. He was in enough trouble as it was: Sirius glared at him, Christine acted as if he were the most insensitive jerk ever born, and Remus treated him as if he were a colleague who he was forced to work with – with cold courtesy. Had they all lost their minds? Couldn't they see that this was the rational decision? If it was anybody else involved but Morgaine, they would have agreed with him!

Then, he saw Lucien Montresorre watching him and realized that the boy was reading his thoughts. Ever since Alain had told his brother what had happened to their family because of James and Lily, Lucien had not bothered to hide his dislike and contempt for the one Alain held responsible, having blindly taken his brother's point of view.

Lucien suddenly stood up, as if he couldn't bear being near James any longer. "Impeccable logic," he said acidly. "I can only regret that you didn't apply it when it was your own life and the lives of your family on the stake. So many disasters would have been avoided if only you had gone to the Death Eaters and surrendered."

_He knows that the others will take the hint in his words. That's why he said it, _James thought_. He wants to put me at odds with Moony, to paint me a cynical bastard caring only for his own child but not Remus'._ Lucien Montresorre was worse than Snivellus. Alas, unlike Snivellus, Lucien had the support of everyone in the room – Linda and Lily would not meddle and both Sirius and Remus would fight for him against James, if necessary. They still hoped to get Cane back and until that happened, they would defend him by defending Lucien.

Even the Dark Lord himself could not plan it better… If something didn't happen, and soon, they would do the Death Eaters' job by attacking one another.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Six hours later…_

_The faint light was shimmering, lightening the way of the wizard, who crossed the dark lake with the little boat. His face was hidden in the shadows, but she could feel the evil emanating from him – it assaulted her nostrils like a physical miasma. He reached the island and the strange bowl – was it a real bowl? – and then he reached under the front of his robes and took out the source of the light. It was a locket that she had seen somewhere – but where exactly? And then it was suddenly not the Dark Wizard anymore, but Cane, only that it couldn't really be Cane, because his expression could not possibly be Cane's – it showed only panic and determination at the same time. He took the bowl and brought it to his lips. "Don't!" she cried. "Don't drink it, it means death!" The small creature standing next to him – a House Elf? – started weeping and muttering something, but to no avail. He drank… and screamed in agony._

"_You are so brave and so stupid!" she cried in horror._

_But on the face of the man who was and wasn't Cane at the same time, there was no joy or special bravery – only desperate determination._

_He kept drinking and screaming, weeping, rolling on the ground. But he would not stop weeping. And when he could drink no more, the House Elf, all in tears, took his head in its hand and forced the liquid in his mouth under the shining light of the locket that shimmered like a star, but a dark one._

Morgaine's head jerked back and she blinked. Had she been sleeping? No, she did not feel recharged, as she should have if she had. On the other hand, it did not feel like she had woken up fro a nightmare either. She was fully clothed, sitting in front of the fire in the room that she had until recently shared with Lily – so close to the flames that she should have become a toast until now.

_It was a prophecy_, she suddenly realized. It was not the first dream that she had about this locket and now she suddenly remembered that she had, in fact, seen the jewel – here, in this house! _These dreams must mean something – and if the Death Eaters know about them, because I know_?

Without thinking further, she jumped to her feet and hurried to Julian's room. She entered without knocking – it was one o'clock in the morning anyway and he was probably still sleeping.

"Julian, are you sleeping?" she whispered, when she stood next to the bed.

To her surprise, he answered immediately, "No."

He really sounded as if he was fully awake.

"Why are you up yet?"

Her brother didn't answer.

"I can't stop thinking about him too," Morgaine said softly, having correctly guessed what caused his worry.

"The last words I said to him were bitching," Julian said in a small voice. "As if he were the one responsible that I was defected and he wasn't."

"We'll get him back," Morgaine said with more certainty than she really felt.

They fell silent for a moment, and then Julian moved in his bed, opening space for her to join him, as she had done when they were children. "Well," he said, "what do I own this night visit to?"

Morgaine practically threw herself in bed and grabbed him, holding as if her life depended on it. Out of the three of them, Julian had always been the most stable one. He wouldn't let her fall. He just wouldn't.

"Here, here," he said, stroking her hair. "Easy. Now, that's a good girl."

Shaking with fear and relief, she told him everything.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The next morning…_

"We must get rid of the Horcrux. I think the Dark Lord might know that we have it."

"Merlin's balls!" Sirius exclaimed and thought that if Remus really were his friend, he would have waited for him to drink his coffee before giving them this startling news.

"Morgaine has had dreams about it. Fortunately, she still doesn't know that we have it, but that's no guarantee. And whatever she knows, the Death Eaters might know, too. We have to get it out of here, before she has the chance to 'see' where it is."

Sirius finished his coffee in one gulp. The scones that Christine had put in front of him and that had looked so appetizing only a minute earlier suddenly lost all allure. "Come on, start from the beginning."

Arielle and James entered the kitchen a few minutes later and heard enough to get a grasp of what was going on. The kids were strictly forbidden to even set foot anywhere in vicinity and, astonishingly, they seemed to mind that order.

"Morgaine doesn't know that it's a Horcrux, but we must take it out of here," Remus finished. "We cannot afford to keep it here – honestly, we cannot afford to keep it in any place for longer, if there is a risk that the Dark Lord might realize that we have it."

There was a dark silence, while everybody was contemplating this last turn of events. The Horcrux that had been such a great advantage to them could turn into their greatest weakness – if Voldemort realized that they were after his Hocruxes, he would get there first and it would mean the end of their chances to destroy him once and for all.

"Do you think that the farther Morgaine is from the locket, the slimmer the chances of her seeing it in visions is?" Sirius asked.

Automatically, all pairs of eyes turned to Alain Montresorre, who nodded energetically. "Absolutely."

"But where are we going to take it?" Christine asked. "We cannot destroy it and we cannot leave it out of our sight."

Alain seemed pensive. "There is someone who I trust to take care of it," he said slowly. "Someone who already destroyed a Horcrux and we hope that he destroys the Dark Lord, too."

James' breath came out like a hiss. It was too dangerous, but after all his talks about rational thinking and the greater good, he could not say so. "We don't know where Harry is," he said with well hidden relief.

Alain's smile showed him that his brother in-law knew exactly what he was thinking. "But we can find him," he said pleasantly.

"How – " Christine started and kept silent. "Oh!"

"Yes," her brother confirmed. "Harry Potter's blood runs through the veins of your children. I could perform a Blood Tracking Charm and you'll be able to locate him in no time."

But before they could take any actions, Kinglsey Shacklebolt arrived and with him came the Witch Weekly – the same one that had published some scandalous photos of Sylvie.

This time, the star was Christine, but so different that the only people who could recognize her were the ones who had seen her a year after the end of the first war, about the time she had been admitted to the hospital of St. Lazarre's. Her face was sunken and grey, her skin stretching on bones covered by no flesh at all, her eyes empty, her lips black. Her whole hair was missing – she didn't even have eyebrows or eyelashes. Her delicate features were contorted in maniacal terror. Her nails were bitten to the point where even the sharpest teeth could do no more harm. THIS IS THE STEPMOTHER OF THE BOY WHO LIVED, the title read. Looking at it, James had trouble believing that the pitiful creature staring blankly at him was the same gorgeous woman that he had married and lived with. Surely Christine could have nothing to do with this poor skeleton.

She only gasped, unable to say a word. She closed her eyes and blindly looked for Alain's hand.

He met her fingers and squeezed them comfortingly, trying to soothe his own anger as much as his sister's nerves. He had firmly shoved this awful period from his life at the back of his mind and now it was back, taunting at them. There was a copy of Christine's medical records enclosed to the article – Alain would very much like to know how they had laid their hands on _those_. It gave away all physical and psychical problems that she had fought so hard against – malnutrition, dehydration, general weakening of the blood, muscle atrophy, fourteen phobias… _Simon did have a talent for that_, Alain thought. _What he managed to achieve with her in only a year was amazing. He would have made a brilliant Healer._ Instead, Simon had chosen to become a Death Eater.

"How do they know?" he asked fiercely.

"They cannot. They cannot know!" Christine said almost hysterically. Now everyone in Britain would know that she, Christine Potter – she didn't even work the energy to insist that becoming a Potter had never been a part of the deal – was insane. No one would care how much effort she had put in making a recovery or that she was healthy now – all they needed to see was this photo.

But what she read in the article was even worse – every insulting rumour about her morals she had ever heard about and even an explanation why her firstborn son, the male twin of her marriage to Henry Lasall had grievous bodily defects. There was not even one word clarifying that he had not been _born_ this way, that he had been damaged _years_ later. The same explanation included a quite revolting motivation of Alain's decision to take care of both children after their father had died and their mother had had no idea that they were still alive.

"Incest," Alain said. He was revolted, but not especially surprised – there had been foul rumours about him and Christine for years, especially started by those who, for one or another reason, had harbored jealousy and resentment towards Henri. "They are accusing us of incest."

He could already say that Shacklebolt was starting to contemplate this possibility. _Aurors_, he thought. _Nothing could be done about them._ Just because he had admitted that he was a professional murderer, the Auror would consider him guilty in all sins that came along. Of course, Alain did have a relationship with his first cousin and even had children by her – not exactly an evidence of avoidance of messing with family on his side, but cousin and sister were not the same thing.

"_Canailles_," Christine spat in French.

"I agree."

"_Brutes_."

"Right you are."

"I won't have them calling me a slut!"

"No one ever said I paid you." Alain was already back to the article, right to the part where Henri was depicted as a common thief. Which was not entirely unfounded, of course, but it certainly hadn't been the way they described it! "Someone is going to pay for this," he said slowly, menacingly.

"Really? For what?"

Everyone looked at the young woman standing near the door. Her traveling clothes were quite filthy and her blonde hair had accumulated at least five pounds of dust, as if she could not have been bothered to lose time on cleaning herself, but her eyes were bright and alert. James recognized her – it was Christine in her youth, the way he had never known her. This woman had the same delicate features, the same shade of blue in her eyes, the same hourglass figure. But her face held nothing of the pain that seemed to be a part of Christine – no reserves, no doubts. Christine had always looked like a shadow of some former self of hers; the young woman here – she was maybe twenty five-year-old – was the real thing.

"Rhoslyn, my dear," Alain said, smiling warmly. "So happy to see you."

He stood up and went to hug her. "I must admit that you really had a knack for turning up at the right time," he said. "We were just talking about a Blood Tracking Curse."

"Really?" She looked interested, while she was hugging him tightly. "Well, Uncle, after your cryptic message, you didn't really expected that I wouldn't turn on, did you? You've been waiting for days for me to arrive, admit it."

"And I've been wondering why you're late," he allowed.

She released him from her embrace and looked at everybody, smiling nicely, but when she saw her mother, the smile became rather fixed.

The last time Christine and Rhoslyn had seen each other had been in the cellar of their villa near the sea, when Henri Lasall had been trashing with pain and fury under the Cruciatus Curse, his son Etienne had been lying next to him, bleeding to unconsciousness from countless curses and wounds, and Rhoslyn had been pulled out of her struggling mother's arms to be further tortured and experimented on…

The two women stood, facing each other, and between them flew the hot river of grief and memories.

Rhoslyn recovered first. She stepped forward and offered a hand. "Nice to see you," she said and Christine felt both chilled and relieved at her distant manners.

"And I, you," she answered. "I heard you specialize in blood spells."

"You heard right."

Rhoslyn hugged Arielle and turned to the other people in the room. "And you are - ?" she said.

Alain made the introductions. "This is my niece, Rhoslyn Lasall," he said. "This is Sirius Black and this is James Potter who turned out not to be as dead as everyone thought."

She smiled politely at Sirius, but the smile died on her lips, when she looked at James. It was replaced by downright antipathy. _Ah I can see that her beloved Uncle had told her his version of the events, _James thought_. _

"Why does he still breathe?" she demanded of Alain. "It's easy. Break his neck and made sure he's dead this time."

Everyone stared, obviously wondering whether it was a joke or not. Alain looked at her meaningfully, showing that they'd talk later. "And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's an Auror."

She smiled again, but Kingsley didn't return her smile. "How did you enter the house?" he asked tersely.

She immediately felt his distrust and bristled. "Arion let me in," she said. "Why, how did you think I came in?"

Alain snorted a laugh. It was good to have her back. "The Aurors have distrusting minds, my dear," he explained. "This one, for instance, is now wondering whether the stuff in this magazine is true and I've taken care of you and your brother for all these years because we're related, or because you're the product of my incestuous relationship with your mother."

Rhoslyn gaped, but recovered almost instantly. "Well," she said, "at least that settles one thing: the Aurors _are_ as big idiots as I always presumed them to be. Now, are you going to tell me why you needed me so urgently?"

"We've got a problem. There was an attempt to bring John back and we ended up accidentally reviving my brother Lucien… at Cane's expense."

She paled. "Idiots!" she breathed.

"Yeah."

Rhoslyn looked at everyone. "Would you mind if I listen and eat at the same time?" she asked. "I'm starving. And I could kill for a coffee."

"Give me two minutes," Christine promised, "and you won't have to kill." She suddenly smiled. "You must have taken this coffee thing from your father. 'Two cups of coffee and two cigarettes', you remember?"

"Yes." That had been one of the songs sung by her father, but also a part of his philosophy about life. 'There is nothing that a cup of good coffee won't fix,' he had used to say.

Rhoslyn was really hungry and had a healthy appetite at any time. Looking at the ungodly amount of food that she devoured, the others had to conclude that it was just plenteous activity that kept her slender as a young hind, although from time to time she would stop eating, when the story reached an especially interesting point.

"And he was just swallowed and Lucien reappeared?" she asked. "Poor Cane. I suppose Morgaine's affliction made everything even worse. I mean, such blood curses are highly dangerous even under the best circumstances, but when the blood of the negotiator is contaminated – " Rhoslyn shook her head. "And yet, he might still have a chance, if Charles… if somebody… yes! If we manage to do this thing, then we must be able to do the other… If we can save John – and the idea of the girls was not so ill-founded as it might seem – then we can save Cane!"

She was so buoyantly young. Grief was strongly felt, but so was joy, so was hope. She quickly explained what she meant. "When we came into our powers, my brother made a blood bond with John. Vanessa and I didn't take it seriously at the time – it was just another stupid and dangerous thing that _boys_ would do. To our amazement, it did work. And ever since John got hit with the Existente Curse, I've been trying to find ways to use this bond for bringing him back. I think that a few weeks back, I found a way to twist the blood bond into serving us. At least, I hope I did. I'm ready to admit that I was preparing to use it on a stationary person and not one who had had business with a bad blood curse."

She stood up. "Bring Uncle Raymond on."

A few minutes later, everyone in the house – unfortunately, or maybe very fortunately, in case they didn't succeed – had crowded in John's room to see what would happen. Rhoslyn performed a Cleansing Spell on her silver dagger and cut Raymond's hand with it. "This is the blood that should complete the ritual," she explained to the viewers. "This is the blood that John and Morgaine share and it should bring John back to life."

_Should_ was the crucial word.

Rhoslyn waved her wand over Raymond's hand and started muttering spells that would make his blood stronger, more vital and more nutritional, so it could meet all needs of John's exhausted system. Finally, she motioned for him to act and he spilled a few drops of his blood on his son's lips, then smeared some more on John's cheeks and brow, throat and chest.

John's skin started reacting immediately, as if his father's blood had been poured onto a piece of blotting paper. It started accumulating the droplets as if it were a sponge, and there were no red spots left anywhere on it. Everyone gasped. Raymond could not take his eyes off his son's face and he saw John's pale colour restoring to that of a living, normal person. Arielle held her breath. Arion grasped her hand.

John's eyelids slowly fluttered. Everyone gasped. Then, they slowly lifted and his blue eyes stared right into his father's. For a moment, no one moved and then John jumped up and grabbed Raymond in a crushing embrace, just short of suffocating him to death.

"I am back!" he yelled. "_God, I am back!_"

22


	44. The Tale of a Sword

_Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo._

**Thanks for all your reviews, favorites and alerts.**

_In response to some reader's question, I'm posting here a brief explanation who is who._

**Alain Montresorre** – son of Dominic and Vivienne, father of Lucien (whose mother is deceased) and two girls by his cousin Margo. An ex-dueling champion, an ex-assassin for the French Ministry of Magic, a historian of magic. He specializes in ancient magic. Half-Veela.

**Anath Lupin** – youngest daughter of Raymond and Sylvie

**Andre Lerois** – son of Selena and Jean-Paul Lerois.

**Arielle Lupin** – eldest daughter of Raymond and Sylvie, twin sister of Arion, girlfriend of Cane. A werewolf.

**Arion Lupin** – youngest son of Raymond and Sylvie, twin brother of Arielle, boyfriend of Chantal. Cane's best friend

**Cane Black** – well, he'll have to do without presentation.

**Cecilia (Cissy) Lerois** – daughter of Selena Black and Lucius Malfoy, adopted by her stepfather, twin sister to Noel

**Charles Montresorre** – son of Cristian and Madeleine Montresorre. After his parents' early deaths he was brought up by his paternal uncle Michel Montresorre. One of Cane's best friends. Part-Veela.

**Christine Montresorre** – eldest daughter of Dominic and Vivienne, mother of Etienne, Rhoslyn, Natalie and Barbara Lasall (by her first husband Henri Lasall) and Malory and Dominic (by James Potter). She suffers from panic disorder that she has developed after the first war, in which she suffered severe traumas. She severed any ties with her family after the war. She thought Henri and her children by him were killed during the war and only recently has learned that this was not the case. Half-Veela.

**Dominic Montresorre** – husband of the Veela Vivienne, father of Alain, Christine, Isabelle and Michel. Father of Lucien, Axel, Cristian and Elise (all deceased). A former world dueling champion seven times in a row.

**Elise Montresorre**- youngest daughter of Dominic and Vivenne, married to Remus, mother of Morgaine. Half-Veela. Deceased.

**John Lupin** – eldest son of Raymond and Sylvie, quite recently awoken from a seven years of curse-induced coma. Father of Eleanor (born during his coma).

**Julian Black** – younger son of Sirius and Angela. Blind and more disabled than he looks.

**Isabelle Delacour** – middle daughter of Dominic and Vivienne, mother to Fleur and Gabrielle, half-Veela

**Lucien Montresorre** – son of Alain. Quite surprisingly, he is enrolled to Durmstrang and not Beauxbatons. Part-Veela.

**Lucien Montresorre **– oldest son of Vivienne and Dominic, father of Tamara and Sebastien, killed during the first war, recently come back (kind of…). A world dueling champion. Half-Veela.

**Margo Saint Claire** – sister of Sylvie, current partner of her cousin Alain Montresorre. Mother of one son and three daughters: Vanessa (by Francis Berge) and two little girls by Alain, as well. A historian of magic, specialized in medieval magic. An ex-assassin for the French Ministry of magic.

**Michel Montresorre** – son of Dominic and Vivienne, husband to Sarah, twin brother to Cristian (deceased). A seven-times world dueling champion.

**Morgaine Lupin** – daughter of Remus and Elise, part-Veela

**Noel Lerois** – son of Selena Black and Lucius Malfoy, adopted by his stepfather, twin brother to Cecilia. Recently lost his right hand.

**Raymond Lupin** – Remus' brother. A Healer. Married twice: 1. to Sylvie Saint Claire who he divorced; 2. to Pamela who died. Father of John, Arielle, Arion and Anath (by Sylvie) and Anthony (by Pamela). He's also the one who takes care for his granddaughter Eleanor, since her parents were both in something like a coma when she was born.

**Rhoslyn Lasall** – daughter of Christine and Henri Lasall, twin sister to Etienne. She specializes in ancient spells.

Sarah Montresorre – cousin of James Potter, wife to Michel Montresorre, mother of two children by him. She's still suffering some psychological harms from the First was against Voldemort.

**Selena Lerois** – daughter of Walburga and Orion Black, twin sister to Regulus, mother to Noel and Cecilia (by Lucius Malfoy) and Andre and Lilith (by Jean-Paul Lerois).

**Sylvie Saint Claire** – a top Auror in the French Ministry of magic. Ex-wife of Raymond Lupin, mother of John, Arion, Arielle, and Anath.

Chapter 46

_An hour later…_

"And then Pettigrew pointed his wand and I thought 'Merlin, oh Merlin, he's going to kill him', but Pettigrew only placed a Memory Charm on him and then he turned his wand at Nor and me and – it happened."

John's voice trailed away, his hands started shaking, when he described the most awful event in his life. He closed his eyes, but his joy soon overcame his sadness. Yes, the leaving of his body had been bad beyond imagination, yes, the last seven years of wandering like an invisible ghost, existing only as a spirit, could not and would not fade soon enough in his memory, but right now, all that mattered was that he was in his own skin again and that everything felt just great. He was deliriously happy. Even silencing the portrait of Sirius' horrible mother that had been awakened by the cries and exclamations filling the house after _his_ awakening had been enjoyable – especially when he had done it himself, with his father's wand. His first magic after seven years of just existing! What was even better was the realization that his magical skills had not been weakened at all, no more than his body had been permanently damaged by non-use. His father had taken good care of it – feeding it by special spells and exercising its muscles by others, - so it was ready for normal functioning again. Well, almost ready, but the stitches felt wonderful after all this time when he hadn't had the chance to feel them at all. The fact that he had awoken completely unable to understand or speak English simply meant that it would be enjoyable to learn it again.

Besides, it was so wonderful to be able to touch people again: his father, his siblings, his uncles and cousins. Everyone had wanted to see him, to touch and embrace him.

Arion, who was translating to his brother, because not everyone on the room talked French, on the contrary, paled and looked deeply saddened. "So, that's what happened," he said softly. "And I was wondering the whole time – "

John looked at him and his face softened with sympathy. "I know," he said, "I saw it – "

"What did you see?" Rhoslyn asked, voicing the question that was in everyone's mind. "What was it like to be a ghost?"

John looked at her and smiled brightly. "I knew you'd be the one to ask," he said. "Miss Know-It-All. You just couldn't keep your curiosity in check, do you?"

James suppressed a grin, remembering Harry and Ron calling Hermione the exact same thing, although they didn't do it in front of her.

Rhoslyn's answer sounded completely Hermione-ish, although the two of them couldn't be more different in their looks. "But of course I had to ask! How are we going to study it if we don't know what the experience is like?"

John sighed dramatically. "Would you like to make a full examination of me? Maybe feeling the tips of my ears?"

She took him to his word and immediately reached for his ears. John shook her hands off, laughing.

Raymond shook his head at their antics. The two of them behaved like the kids they had been so long ago, in Paris, and yet, it was so different. Two other members of their quartet, Rhoslyn's twin brother Etienne and Margo's daughter Vanessa, were only Merlin knew where, dealing with things that Raymond had no idea about, but he didn't doubt that they were dangerous to the core. Rhoslyn's cousin and new husband Sebastien had a task of his own, in the Balkans, of all places, and Sebastien's sister Tamara was with their grandmother, helping her with the many children left in her care while their parents were busy saving the world.

John's laughter died. He looked at the others and said bluntly, "As much as I am happy to be here, I cannot ignore the fact that another guy has vanished to achieve it. What are we going to do with Cane?"

Rhoslyn was the one who answered, "There is still a chance for him, if he has exchanged blood with Charles." She looked at Arion. "Well?"

"He has," the young man answered. "The three of us exchanged blood years ago. That was very useful when they had to rescue me from the Death Eaters haunt. Once they were inside, Charles found me."

She slowly nodded. "He should be able to find Cane too, in the land between death and life, if he has only vanished. I will help him with the spells that he will need to reach it and I'll provide him the knowledge of the other ones, the ones he'll have to use to guide him back. I can do it in a few days at most."

Alain and Michel looked at each other. "Wait," Michel said. "There is something that you still don't know. Charles was hit with gold and he still hasn't recovered."

Rhoslyn's hand flew to her throat. She suddenly looked terrified. "Don't worry," Alain quickly reassured her, "he'll be all right. It'll just take a while."

"We don't _have_ time," Margo interrupted. "With each day, Lucien will lose it more and it will damage Cane's sanity too, when he comes back." She sighed. "But you're right, of course, we can do nothing but wait."

"If Charles got stuck where I was – ". The very memory of the experience made John shudder. "Nothing will be solved, it will only become a bigger mess."

Rhoslyn slowly took her hand down from the big mole on her throat. No, not a mole. A burn scar. Her eyes were wide and her face pale, but she looked more composed. "All right," she said. "Morgaine, come on, let's go to your room, so I can examine you and we'll have a talk. See you later, John," she added before leaving.

All the time, she had carefully avoided to look at her mother. Christine, for her part, had stared hungrily at Rhoslyn the entire time.

The door opened and Sylvie burst in, her hair a mess and her clothes grubby and covered with blood. There was blood trickling on the left side of her face, too, but she paid no attention to it. "I just had an encounter with one of them," she said, "in a Muggle house. I think they were – "

Then she saw John. She fell silent and stared at him in shock. He smiled and made a step towards her, then grabbed her in a fierce embrace that, combined with the shock and the blood loss, turned out to be too much for her. She slumped in his arms and lost consciousness.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same night…_

"Yelljow."

John was remembering how the colours in English were pronounced. This one was yellow. His face was still serene, but with the fall of the night he seemed more anxious, tormented even. Raymond was sitting next to him. He smiled and said in French, "Just like when you were a kid and we had just moved to France, remember?" Then, he patiently repeated the word to his son with the right pronunciation. Yellow. He was satisfied: he had examined John thoroughly and there seemed to be no physical problems. The full eradication of John's English worried him a little, but he hoped it was only temporary, due to the shock.

John looked at him and smiled faintly. "You know what?" he asked. "I don't want to go to sleep, because I'm afraid that when I wake up, I'll find out that this was just a dream, not real."

"Me too," his father admitted, they looked at each other and laughed, and then John moved closer to Raymond.

Sirius moved away from the door of the living room. Raymond's joy suddenly filled him with bitter pain. He went downstairs, in the kitchen, where he found Arion: the young man was sitting on the table with a glass of pumpkin juice, three opened books and a piece of parchment that he quickly scribbled notes on. At Sirius' entrance, he raised his head, but the hostile looks in his eyes quickly gave way to sympathy. _I must look really pitiful,_ Sirius thought. "Do you miss him as I do?" Arion asked and Sirius nodded. "And I suppose John's return doesn't help much."

Sirius shrugged. The truth was, he could hardly wait for Rhoslyn to perform the Blood-Tracking Charm. It had been decided that he would accompany Christine in bringing the locket to Harry. He couldn't wait to get away from the house, Lucien and now Raymond's happiness.

One look at Arion told him that he could sit down, so he did and accepted the glass of pumpkin juice that Arion placed in front of him. "Can't sleep? Or do you still have a problem with James' decision to support Kingsley about Morgaine? Or both?"

Sirius laughed dryly. "God, you're just as perceptive as Remus!"

"It isn't that hard, given the fact that I've lived with Cane all my life." Arion smiled. "You two are more alike than you know." He became serious. "It isn't fair, you know. James has known Morgaine for how long, two months? You cannot expect of him to have a bond with her that is strong enough to overcome his logical thinking."

"Do you exonerate him?" Sirius asked irritated.

"No, but I can understand him." Arion stared at the parchment. "Cane wouldn't, though."

Sirius suddenly smiled. "No, he wouldn't," he agreed and remembered the quarrel he had had with Cane when his son had first asked him to go to Beauxbatons to keep an eye on Morgaine. He hadn't placed her first then, only a few months later, after he had _lived_ with her. Maybe he _was_ unfair to James.

"How is Arielle?" he asked.

"Poorly," Arion answered curtly, already checking something in the books. "I think the baby feels her distress, so it's giving her harder time than usual. I stayed with her for two hours, before she finally fell asleep. And she cannot keep her food. I doubt she'll be a pretty sight for Cane to return to."

Sirius doubted that. No matter how Arielle looked, no matter what she did, she would forever be the most beautiful woman in the world for Cane. No one who had seen them together could doubt it.

"When did you realize there was something going on between them?" he asked absent-mindedly.

"Always," Arion replied.

Sirius looked at him with renewed interest. He had always assumed that it had been a gradual realization of the fact that there was more than just friendship between the two of them. _He_ certainly wasn't a guy for a childhood love turning into adult one and Cane was like him, everyone saw that.

Arion had abandoned his books again and was now staring at Sirius. "It's only natural," he said. "Cane wants to be sure. He always has. Some people need that. Even he. That's part of the attraction, I think."

"But not to you."

Arion shook his head. "No, not to me."

People could always surprise you. Between the impulsive, hot-headed Cane and the level-headed, ever so calm Arion, one would think that Cane would be the one to like the risk and adventure in his personal life. But then, Arion was not the one who had suffered a severe trauma and constant changes at age four. Sirius could only guess how bad it must have been to incfuence him this way still.

"Stop it!" Arion said sharply.

"Stop what?"

"Delving in the past. I know that's what you're doing. Twelve years in Azkaban are a long time. Don't you think you've served your sentence, Sirius?"

They stared at each other. "I should have acted differently," Sirius said.

"That's right," Arion confirmed. "And now forget about it. Bringing the past and the guilt back won't help. There are some choices you can only make once. You cannot go back to the time you made a choice and make a different one."

"No," Sirius said. "You can't. And I wouldn't anyway. Because I made the right choice in the end, even if it was too late."

"I don't understand."

"Cane's mother gave me an ultimatum: either her and Cane, or James and his family."

"And you chose James?"

"No. No. That isn't true. I told James that I couldn't be their Secret Keeper, that I didn't want to do it. I wanted to live with Angela and Cane and the new baby without exposing them to further danger. But when I went back to talk to her… she looked so insecure, she had really believed that I'd choose James. I didn't want to talk about the Secret Keeper or anything to do with James and Lily. Honestly, I felt so guilty in front of her that I just wanted to forget that they existed!" He smiled with irony. "And then, of course, when they died, I felt guilty in front of them for not wanting to even think about them."

"A beastly thing," Arion decided. "A real vicious circle."

"Exactly."

"So you did choose him and his mother at the end. Yes, it all makes sense now.

"Do you think so?"

"I think you should have told him."

"I will," Sirius said. "As soon as he is back."

Arion smiled. "As soon as he is back," he agreed.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Two hours later…_

"There is no doubt that she's controlled," Rhoslyn said as soon as she entered the kitchen, where everyone had gathered for the emergency meeting: all adults who were currently living in the house, Mrs Weasley and the twins, Kingsley, and Lee Jordan. "I think that besides the contamination caused by the blood curse, they infused in her veins blood from someone who can probe in her mind thanks to that link."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be on this stage. I'll run examinations, of course, but I don't think I am mistaken. It's an ancient, almost forgotten practice that was founded by the wizards and witches of old civilizations – oh here comes the man you might want to question about those," She smiled broadly. "Hi Bill. Long time, no see."

Bill Weasley returned her grin. "I am not the one to blame, though," he said and hugged her. "I invited you to the wedding, but you didn't come."

"Do you know her?" George asked.

"For years," his brother answered. "We met in Egypt when she ran a project there."

"I wish I had known her for years," George muttered and smiled at her expectantly. "Maybe we could make up for the time we lost?"

Rhoslyn laughed. "Take an advice from me, pretty boy," she said. "Go for girls, not women."

Fred laughed loudly and George pulled a Ron – he was all confused face and red ears.

"Where's Fleur?" Rhoslyn turned to Bill.

"She's at Shell Cottage," he answered. "Our new home."

"It sounds very nice," she said. "Romantic. I've always loved houses that are near the sea. I was ecstatic each time we went to my parents' villa and – " She sighed. "Enough about that. I was talking about Morgaine. I'll make further checks, but it will take time. And Charles is definitely not fit for undergoing and casting the spells for bringing Cane back."

She started pacing the room, feeling tired and restless at the same time. Morgaine's state brought back the terrible memories of the times after the attack in the villa, when she had been bled and infused with spells and potions with 'medical' purposes – her inquisitors had wanted to test the reactions of her body and mind to these violent changes. She wouldn't be surprised if the knowledge of Morgaine's vulnerability to certain charms and curses had come from one of their experiments with her and her brother.

"And what about the locket?" Remus asked. "We never told her about it, but she dreams of it. Is it able that the Death Eaters can draw information that would help their master to realize that we are after his Horcruxes?"

"Definitely," Rhoslyn answered and the room suddenly seemed chilly to everyone. "She's a Seer and they can penetrate her mind. Maybe they can make her do things, who knows."

Remus slowly nodded. He had been thinking the same thing and he did not like to hear his fears confirmed, but there was no point in refusing to face the facts. "We must get the Horcrux out of here," he said. "We must take it away from her, so she wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid. Or maybe we can destroy it."

"How?" Raymond asked. "As long as I know, there aren't many substances strong enough to destroy a Horcrux."

"The Sword of Gryffindor," Remus said softly. "It's goblin-made and since Harry killed the basilisk with it, it must have absorbed the basilisk poison and _it_ is strong enough for our purpose."

He had expected everything except for the expression of terror that crossed his brother's eyes. It was gone in a minute and then Raymond said evenly, "We cannot use the sword, even if we had it. It's better that we don't have it."

"Why?" a few people asked simultaneously.

Raymond shook his head. "Just trust me on this. We cannot use the sword."

This was not good enough – Raymond could feel it. For a moment, they had seen a solution of a problem that was far from easy and now he wanted of them to take him for his word without giving any explanations? Even Remus was looking at him with raised eyebrows and Remus had always trusted him.

Poor Remus did not realize how better off he was not knowing.

"Trust me," Raymond said again, "I know what I'm talking about. The sword isn't what it was anymore. It was – desecrated. Its nature was changed into something that might as well be as evil as a Horcrux itself."

"How so?" Kingsley asked softly. The undertone was clear: he respected Raymond, but he would not decide not to act just on his words. Not without a proof. Or explanation.

Raymond looked around and sighed. Maybe he really should explain? What harm could that do now? The one who was ought to be affected was long dead.

And yet, it was not his secret to tell. Besides, he was a Healer and he had been let in the whole matter as such. He was not entitled to reveal a patient's condition to anyone, even after the patient's death.

But there was so much on the stake.

He looked at the only person in the room who knew what was going on. Michel Montresorre's eyes had become gray and cold. "I suppose it won't be much use if I say Raymond is right?" he asked. No one answered. "Yes, so I thought. Very well then, I'll do the explaining."

He had suddenly become very pale, his face set in expressionless mask. He started to say something, then looked at his father, at Alain and Christine. And hesitated.

Dominic instinctively tensed. He knew his son well enough to know that he wouldn't like what Michel would say. And that Michel didn't like it either. "Come on," he said, "enough squirming. What monstrous tale do you have to tell me? What circle of hell are you going to send me to this time?"

"Father, do you hear yourself?" Michel asked. "Are you out of your wits?"

"I am fully in possession of my wits, thank you very much for the filial concern. But you must admit that you and I go a long way back and experience taught me to be alert, because I can recognize the moments when you're preparing to take something awful out of your sleeve."

_Something awful does not even begin to describe it_, Michel thought and looked aside. "Very well," he said. "I never thought I'd have to talk about this, but since there is no other way…" He sighed. "The Sword of Gryffindor was not originally his," he said and raised a hand to silence Fred and George's protests. "I know, I know," he said. "It is one of Hogwarts' relics and I don't deny that he wore and used it with great honour. But the fact is, the sword was a good hundred years older than Godric Gryffindor. The goblins made it for the Bulgarian archon – or prince, if you prefer – Boris Mikhail, the ruler who made Christianity an official religion of his people."

He looked at Margo, the famous historian of medieval magic, and she nodded. "It's true," she said. "All specialists know it, but I don't understand what the origin of the sword has to do with anything."

"Boris Mikhail was a wise diplomat," Michel went on, "but he was not lucky on the battlefield. He tended to lose wars, you see. And his people were not too willing to change their old ways and accept the norms of Christianity. That's why he contacted the Veelas and started negotiations with them: that they wouldn't be bothered in their realms if they agreed to provide him the sword he wanted. An indestructible one. They agreed and commissioned the object to the goblins. When the sword was ready, it was just the weapon Boris Mikhail needed: invincible to destruction, absorbing everything strong to make itself stronger. But just to be sure, the Veelas put to it an additional magic effect: one of them made a curse that wove a magic alarm for a sudden attack. This effect was spread not over the man who carried the sword – and I doubted that Gryffindor would have needed anyway, - but to Boris Mikhail specifically and it was achieved by a spell made during his coupling with a Veela. In short, it was based on lust and fertility. Later, some of the nobles rebelled against their prince, for they considered that he had given them a bad law by adopting Christianity. But he defeated them and the sword had a part, I don't know how big, in this defeat. However, later Boris Mikhail felt remorse for having resorted to magic against his people. He wanted to get rid of the sword. But how? It could not be destroyed. So, he found another decision: he sent it to the Pope in Rome as a gift, along with other weapons that he had used during the battle. Of course, its origin was not mentioned, but anyway, a hundred years ago the sword was about to be forgotten somewhere in Rome, without anyone knowing what it was. That was why the goblins decided to draw further dividends from it: when they were supposed to forge a sword for Godric Gryffindor, they simply gave him this one. He was brave. Brilliant. A famous wizard. And after his death, the sword became a relic. Everything seemed fine."

"But?" Kingsley demanded. "I suppose you're telling us this fascinating tale for a reason?"

"But among specialists, it is no secret what the sword's origin really was. Twenty years ago, the chief of the Death Eaters realized that he could change the relic to serve another purpose, not what Boris Mikhail and Godric Gryffindor used it for. Maybe he was just trying to prepare a nasty surprise for Dumbledore, who knows?"

"What weakness?" Remus asked.

"The emotions that were part of the original defense," Michel answered. "It was the lust and fertility of a Veela that penetrated it to make it a weapon for defense, and it was the fear and the lost fertility of a Veela that penetrated it to make it evil."

Now he was looking straight in front of him, but his eyes were distant, turned to something very far away and someone who was visible for him alone.

"How do you know it?" Sylvie asked.

"I watched them doing it."

"You watched – " she repeated. "But I never heard anything about that and I would have. Twenty years ago, I was already an Auror, you were twenty year old – "

"Sixteen, actually."

"Sixteen," she agreed, "and – "

"And Elise was fourteen," Michel said flatly.

The words fell like stones in the silence of the room. Remus looked at Michel, his face suddenly white. Alain's eyes were wide and his father's just shut completely. Christine let out a gasping breath. Rhoslyn pressed her hand to her heart.

"It was not by agreement, of course," Michel went on. "Elise surely liked entertainments, and boys – well, one boy in particular – and she was a coquette, but in truth she was as green as a leaf where intimacy was concerned. And she had a dream. She wanted to be the greatest ballerina ever and she had been given a Time-Turner, so she could attend her dancing classes. There was an arrangement between Madame Maximme and my parents that Elise was allowed to leave Beauxbatons for those, if I or someone else accompanied her. For two years, there was no problem until this wretched evening – "

He paused. "We were waiting for her at the nearest café," he said. "My cousin Marc, Reynald who was her boyfriend at the time, and I. At the beginning, we were more alert, but the class lasted three hours. It was a hot May evening, and we couldn't do magic to cool ourselves, since we weren't of age. We were tired and snappish, and we couldn't wait for her to come back. We weren't as watchful as we should have been, I suppose – no, I know we weren't. When she finally got out, we headed for her without even looking around. The four of us were on out way to Rue de magie, when they took us by surprise. The fight was short, I think, and when I woke up, I found myself between the menhirs in Kermario, near Morbihan. I was Body-binded and so were Marc and Reynald. And they were there – nine of them, I counted. Elise was on the ground, naked and trembling." He laughed bitterly. "They were just kids, I could tell by their voices. They couldn't have been much older than us. And they were talking about classes and Hogwarts, while they were preparing for the rite that would transfer Elise's fear, the blood that she would lose and the loss of her fertility into the sword. I recognized it immediately, of course – I had seen enough pictures of it to do so. They were inspected how well it had cleaned itself. Everything had to be perfect, you see – the sword, the girl, the old sacred place. I think they saw themselves as successors of the priests of the old magic in the region. They even made Elise drink blood because of the old charm that enabled it to make her own blood stronger when they shed it. Does that spell something out for you?" he suddenly burst out. "Do you realize how unhinged these scamps were? And your ruddy Dumbledore was trying to convince us – " He took a deep breath and went on more calmly, "They used the sword to spill Elise's blood and finish the curse that would desecrate the blade."

"But she was not killed," Molly Weasley whispered. "She stayed alive and she married Remus –"

"They didn't want her life," Michel explained. "They wanted a different kind of blood – one that should have been shed by a man. The most vicious mockery was that one of them actually took his mask off and drank a Polijuice Potion that transformed him into the guy who should have taken the blood a few years later – Reynald, my best friend. Elise's boyfriend."

Molly paled in horror.

Remus only stared at the other man. As disgusting as the story was, he did not doubt that it was true – looking at Michel's pale face and burning eyes, it was impossible not to. And there were so many other things that confirmed the truthfulness of his claim. Elise had not been a virgin when they had met and yet she had had no experience with intimacy, the fact that when they had started dating, everyone was amazed, because she had never shown any interest in men, the way that after nine years of marriage, she had still panicked each time he took her by the hand without warning. Now he knew what she had always avoided to tell him – why she had never broken with Reynald Dubois fully before Remus himself met her. He had always suspected that her feelings for Dubois had been deeper than a girl crush but she had always refused to explain. Now he knew why. He thought he was going to be sick.

"She yelled and tried to fight, of course," Michel continued. "To no avail. They were far stronger than her. Finally, they got what they wanted and left us there to bleed to death."

"Bleed to death?" Alain asked sharply. "You said that they cut Elise open with the sword, so why did they leave you to bleed?"

Michel looked at him with surprise. "Didn't I tell you? Before they did it to her, they used a cutting spell on us three guys and filled a goblet with out blood, then ordered her to drink it."

Christine stood up and fled the room, obviously fearing that she would throw up. Michel stared after her for a minute and then went on, his voice dead and listless. "She refused. They spilled the blood and took a new supply. Then, they told her that they would bleed us again and again, until she drank. She tried this time, and couldn't swallow, so the procedure was repeated and then again, four times, until she finally managed to drain the goblet." The memory made him shudder: the moonlight, the masked faces, the tears on his sister's face and the blood dripping from her mouth, as if she were a vampire. "Enough to make us as weak as kittens. Fortunately, at one time Marc and Reynald recovered enough to Apparate us away – they had to concoct a credible lie for the Ministry because of the Trace, but back then, we didn't care. All we wanted was to get out of there alive."

"They came to me," Raymond said. "Sylvie was at the Ministry and I was alone with the kids, when they knocked at the door, I answered and they slumped in a heap on the floor. Between the four of them, there was enough blood to stain the lake at Hogwarts." He shook his head. "The boys recovered from the blood loss in less than two hours, but Elise – " He smiled bitterly. "Let's say that the curse laid upon the sword was _very_ effective."

"Very effective?" Kingsley inquired. "How can you know this?"

"Because of the fact that her body rejected the children she conceived," Raymond answered. "I was the one who treated her that first night, Kingsley. I saw what had been inflicted upon her."

"And you didn't find it necessary to inform me or her mother," Dominic spoke for a first time.

"It isn't his fault, Father," Michel interrupted. "We didn't want anyone to know and honestly, Elise was so inadequate that I was afraid she might do some folly if Raymond didn't listen to her. She was feverish about keeping it a secret. We were afraid of her reaction if we let something out, especially when it became clear that the perpetrators wouldn't be punished." He smiled darkly. "Oh yes. We broke our word and went to the great Dumbledore. We explained the situation to him, that Elise needed to know who they were, or she'd go mad staring at everyone she met and asking herself whether he was the one. We asked for Dumbledore's help and guess what happened? He turned us down!"

A few indignant voices protested. It was impossible to believe that Albus Dumbledore, of all people, would leave such a crime unpunished.

"Yes." Raymond's voice drowned everyone else. "I know. I felt the disillusionment when he explained that no one should be reminded of these ancient, almost forgotten curses. What was an isolated case could become the rule, if the strength of these practices became known to the public. And besides, the evil had already been done, nothing could reverse it. Surely the girl herself wouldn't want to become a subject of rumours and speculations, she'd want to forget all about this nightmare as soon as possible… Nice choice of words," he added bitterly. "You know, he spoke very convincingly, Dumbledore. And he was even right, no one should be reminded of those forbidden practices. It was all for good. For everyone. Everyone except for Elise, that is.. No man who does such a thing to a woman, let alone a young girl, should be allowed to walk away free. And there were spells, traces, potions, a hundred ways to check which students had been missing two days ago. How long do you think it would have taken to find the perpetrators?" he asked sharply, looking at Kingsley. "Three days? A week? But no, there were more important things on the stake, Dumbledore did not say it, but it was clear what he meant."

"You cannot blame him for that," Kingsley said reluctantly.

"No, that was his side and I accept it. But there was another aspect, too. A girl who was physically and mentally damaged and whose tormentors were left unpunished. And whose terror was absorbed by the Sword of Gryffindor. We cannot use the sword, not against a Horcrux. There's no foreseeing what might happen."

"Unless we perform a cleansing ritual," Margo said. "Medieval curses are my specialty, remember? But I'll need the sword to perform the counter curse cycle and we don't have it."

Behind their mother's back, Fred and George exchanged looks.

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**A.N. Boris-Mikhail is a real person who lived in IX century. He was the one who made Christianity official religion in Bulgaria… although there were too many people who were not exactly thrilled by that. There really was a riot and later, Boris-Mikhail really sent the Pope the weapons that he had won with. It was the first time in the history of Christianity when the sword and the other weapons of a Christian monarch obtained a sacred nature. The next famous sword in Christian history, I think, is Curtana, the Sword of Edward the Confessor, the last pre-Norman King of England (except for Harold, of course), who lived in XI century. The legends about Excalibur appear even later, about XII century. **


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